


The Calm Before the Storm

by starhawk2005



Series: A Light in the Dark [3]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Developing Relationship, F/M, Het, Phone Sex, Smut, evil!god roleplay (Ch. 3), my kinks let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/470918/chapters/814742">Embracing the Dark.</a> (Loki/Jane, BDSM). Jane learns that there are some pitfalls to sleeping with the God of Mischief. And that’s <i>before</i> the waste materials impact the proverbial bladed ventilation device.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Thanks and love to canyr12, for putting up with me! ;)  
> Disclaimer: Can I lease-to-own Loki? Pretty please? *begs* Especially if he comes with that leather get-up from Avengers….  
> Author’s Note: As usual, I have not read any of the comics, so this is all based on movie canon.
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> Banner courtesy of the lovely **cincoflex**!  
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Two days after their last encounter, Jane decides it’s time to find a bigger place to live. 

If she’s honest with herself, as much as she’s enjoying this ‘arrangement’ with Loki, it still feels wrong on so many levels, and every time Loki yanks her out of her familiar home base and to a new anonymous hotel room for playtime, it just seems to underline that fact. 

If she’s going to travel, she’d much rather it be while on vacation, and not a brief glimpse of an interesting skyline, or a romantic sunset on the beach, and then all she sees from that moment on is the inside of another hotel room. And Loki, though she’s not complaining about _that_.

But Jane is starting to think that if she moves into somewhere bigger, with a bed big enough for two people - _or at least, one small person and one much larger person_ , she thinks to herself with a smile – that this will be better. If she can act out her fantasies in the same environment all the time, in a place where she will feel comfortable, maybe it’ll feel a little less like she’s doing something very very _wrong_ with Loki.

She’s not a slut (or if she is, then so is _he_ ), so that’s not what’s bothering her. They’re two consenting adults, and anyone who would look down their nose at her on that basis alone can go take a long walk off a short cliff, as far as Jane is concerned. 

But given everything that Loki has done (both real and alleged)…unfortunately it’s getting harder and harder for Jane to ignore that. She can’t change the past, however, and she doesn’t feel ready to confront him about those things. Indeed, she doesn’t know if she ever will ask him to explain it all, because who knows what might set him off? But maybe if she takes this step, perhaps it will start to feel more like an actual _relationship_. It probably won’t, if she’s a realist, but it’s worth a try. And she’s getting tired of the cramped quarters, herself. 

If their arrangement is going to go anywhere – and Jane doesn’t know if it will, or how far she even wants it to – she doesn’t think it can, so long as Loki just drops her into random rooms, screws her, and leaves. She wants a place with a decent-sized kitchen and a comfortable couch. A place where Loki can stretch out his long legs, and not look disgusted while doing so. A place where she can maybe coax him into staying with her longer than just during their bedroom antics, so she can feel less like this is just some bizarre friends-with-benefits situation. 

If she can call it that. _Are we even friends, really?_ she asks herself. But she doesn’t like the answer that presents itself. No, they aren’t, and they can’t be, so long as Loki flits in and out of her life, and just for the sex. If she can get him to stick around for longer periods, maybe they can get to know each other better, perhaps even become friends. That’s Jane’s hope, anyway. She’s not ready to give up what they currently have, but there’s no denying that it doesn’t sit comfortably with her, especially once she allows herself to also remember all the lying and sneaking around that she’s doing. 

Maybe with her own, bigger place, somewhere where they can meet consistently, at least it will feel a little less clandestine. Even if that’s entirely an illusion. 

So the next time she’s in the lab running a simulation, she pulls out the local classifieds and starts looking for a new place. She doesn’t need something _huge_ , especially not after getting used to the trailer. A one-bedroom is fine, maybe a studio apartment? 

All she really needs is good soundproofing, she thinks to herself with a grin, especially given Loki’s apparent fetish for making her scream. She doesn’t want the neighbours to be calling the cops every time Loki decides to visit! She circles a couple likely-sounding places. Selling the trailer is going to be another challenge, but she’ll cross that bridge later.

Idly, she eyes the whiteboard across the way, lost in thought. She’s still working on her own version of the Bifröst, just not as frantically as before. There’s no longer a driving need to get to Asgard, now that she no longer considers herself to be in a relationship with Thor. Nor does she have the necessary power source to run such a device. 

But it will still be an important scientific breakthrough, so Jane’s going to keep at it, though it’s a pleasant change; she knows that she’s right, and there is no longer quite so much pressure to construct the thing and have it work _now_. She can actually kind of enjoy the process-

Her cell phone rings, and Jane scoops it up absently, without bothering to look at the display. “Hello?”

“Greetings, little one,” comes the purring response, and Jane straightens up and glances around the lab. She’s pretty sure Darcy and Erik are still up on the roof, finishing their first cups of coffee of the day, but she doesn’t want to take any chances. 

The coast is clear. “Loki, what the _hell_ -?” she hisses into the phone. How does he even know how to use a phone? 

“Are you alone?” he asks, his voice husky. It affects her in a way that makes Jane feel rather embarrassed. Or she would be, if there was anyone around to witness her blush. 

“Yes, but-“ She laughs nervously. What the hell is he doing?

“Good,” he continues. “I have been thinking of you since dawn broke. Thinking about all I will do to you the next time we meet.”

Jane’s breath catches. He’s not seriously going to-

“I think,” he says, his voice getting lower and more gravelly, “that I will start by using your scarf to deprive you of your sight. So that you must rely on your other senses. Especially _touch_.” He laughs softly, wickedly, and Jane realizes she’s squeezing her thighs together.

“You cannot see me, but I am standing behind you,” he continues, and Jane whirls around and checks, but there’s no sign at all that he’s in the room with her. Apparently he is content, for the moment, to tease her from a distance. “I reach around you and begin undoing the fastenings of your shirt, oh so slowly, one by one.” He chuckles again. 

Jane shakes herself like a wet dog, trying to break the spell his voice is weaving over her. She can’t _do_ this. Not here, not now. “Loki, _stop_. There’s a time and place for everything, and this is not the time! I’m at work, for God’s sake, and Erik and Darcy could come down from the roof at any moment! Why are you doing this now?”

“Because I _want_ to,” he says, and she can hear the leer in his voice. “How quickly you forget, my dear, I am the God of-“

“Mischief, I know,” Jane interrupts sharply. “I don’t _care_ , Loki. There are some boundaries you just shouldn’t cross-”

“And yet, you so enjoy when I _push_ those boundaries of yours,” he remarks, the caressing edge in his voice still affecting her in ways that should probably annoy her a lot more than they are. “My mischievous side pleases you. More than you are willing to admit. Tell me, what is the harm in  indulging me, at this very moment?”

“Let’s see, intense embarrassment when I get caught?” she retorts. 

He laughs again. “I am sure you will make convincing excuses to whomever may interrupt us. You _are_ clever, my Jane.” His voice lowers again, the intimate tone returning. “Now, where was I? Oh yes- Close your eyes. I’ve taken your sight from you, remember?”

Jane’s hand clenches hard around the phone, but she can’t quite bring herself to hang up on him. Part of her does enjoy this, yes. She finds her eyes closing despite herself.

“I have you naked to the waist now,” he growls. “You cannot see anything, but you can feel my warm fingers on you, caressing you. I touch your lovely nipples, stroke them, and they stiffen under my hands.”

Jane groans before she can stop herself, and she has to fight to resist the urge to touch herself, to see if she is indeed responding the way she is in the pictures he’s painting for her.

He laughs softly at her reaction. “Your obedience pleases me,” he continues. “And I know just how to ‘reward’ you. You next feel me undoing your breeches.”

_ Pants, _ Jane almost corrects him, but she doesn’t feel like it. She doesn’t need to look to know that her free hand is gripping the edge of the table hard enough that it’s white-knuckled. Loki’s voice is both soft and  gravelly at the same time, and she wonders how the heck he _does_ that.

“I have you stripped bare, now,” he goes on, “and I pull you back hard against me. Can you feel my armour pressing against your soft skin? Can you feel how badly I want you?”

“Yes,” Jane answers, barely restraining a whimper. Damn him, she _can_. 

There’s that husky laugh again, evil and seductive at the same time, and between her legs, Jane feels a sensation of warmth, of heaviness. Her  breathing speeds up, and the phone feels like it’s welded to her ear.

“I am certain you are already wet for me, my Jane, but I can assess that easily enough,” he teases. “I hold you tight against me and pull your legs apart, slide my hand right between them, press my fingers against the seat of your pleasure-“

The computer beeps loudly as the simulation ends, and it startles Jane right back into reality. Her cheeks are bright pink, she can _feel_ it, and if Darcy or Erik were to walk in right now, they’d take one look at her and _know_ exactly what she’s been up to. Hell, anyone with half a brain would know. Her anxiety goes back into high gear.

“Stop this,” she hisses into the phone. “I can’t- This isn’t-“

“And now you are being disobedient again,” he sighs loudly, but there’s an amused edge there, too. “Will I have to take you over my knee?”

Jane bites her lip, trying not to entertain the mental image, but it presents itself to her anyway – herself, blindfolded still, lying naked and helpless over his lap, his strong hand holding her wrists pinned together behind her back. His other hand poised over her, ready to strike - Christ, Loki is just too good at pushing her buttons. She _aches_ , in the best possible way, and no doubt that’s exactly what he wants.

“Have you ever been spanked before, my Jane?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I almost did so last time, when you so brazenly refused to kneel. You are overdue for a session of discipline, I think. I can’t wait to feel you squirming in my lap, feel your skin heating under my palm as I give you your punishment.”

If Jane wasn’t wet before, she surely is now. She can _feel_ it. She swallows another groan.

She’s enjoying this, enjoying the crazy roller-coaster of it, enjoying the way her body is responding….But that doesn’t make it right. Some things belong in private, and the lab is _not_ private. If he wants to tease her, okay, but not here where someone can catch her in the act. Never mind what could happen if anyone found out _who_ she’s having phone-sex with.

“You want to ‘punish’ me? Fine,” she replies, glad that her voice sounds just as strong and commanding as his. “But this, as I said, is not the place or time.”

Just then, she hears Darcy and Erik coming back in. “And I’m not alone any more. So I’m hanging up now,” she whispers into the phone. She doesn’t wait for his reply, just hangs up and then turns her phone off for good measure, and then she makes a beeline right for the bathroom. 

“Jane?” she hears Darcy call behind her. 

“I’m OK, just need to visit the little girls’ room,” Jane calls back over her shoulder, walking even faster. She slips into the tiny bathroom and shuts and locks the door. She looks in the mirror, and she’s flushed and obviously excited. _Damn you, Loki._ Jane closes her eyes again and tries to slow her breathing and heart rate, trying to relax. She pulls her scarf off and splashes water on her face, though the sight of the edge of the bite-mark in the mirror just reminds her again who had been at the other end of the line. And who she had a moment ago basically agreed to allow to ‘discipline’ her.

That had probably been his game all along, knowing him. To goad her into agreeing to submit to him for punishment. 

Thinking about being ‘disciplined’ makes her both nervous and aroused, but with an effort, Jane sets both feelings aside. She’s at work, and she has a job to do, and she’s going to focus on that, God damn it.

_ And if he calls me again at work, I am so not picking up. Ever. _

*~*~*

_ Thor allows his horse to canter along the Asbru bridge, wondering why Heimdall has summoned him, though he suspects it has something to do with Loki. He knows he will find the Gatekeeper at the edge of the bridge, staring out past the remains of the Bifröst. _

_ Odin has ordered the Tesseract hidden in the weapons vault, saying that it is too dangerous to use, and they are long  _ _ months away from rebuilding the bridge to the other Nine Realms. It aggravates him that he cannot get back to Earth and see Jane, but Odin had refused to use the Tesseract or to call upon the dark energies again merely to allow Thor to visit the object of his affections. Odin does not deem the need great enough, and although Thor can understand it, he does not have to _ like _it._

_ It aggravates and eats away at him, day by day, but he plays the part of the dutiful son, partly to help ease Odin’s and Frigga’s grief over effectively losing Loki. _

_ He dismounts a few yards away from Heimdall, misgivings making themselves known to him. Ever since Loki escaped Asgard, Thor has been waiting for this day to come, and yet, now that it may be here, he finds himself dreading it. What new troubles might his adopted brother be stirring up? And what might Thor have to do to stop him? He does not look forward to engaging Loki in battle again. Loki may think that they are no longer brothers, but such thinking is not proving as easy for Thor. _

_ “Thor,” Heimdall greets him. _

_ “Heimdall. Why did you summon me?” _

_ “I bear tidings of Loki,” Heimdall answers. “Though I do not think you will like them.” _

_ Thor sighs heavily. “No, I expect not.” _

_ “He has learned well how to shroud himself from my gaze,” Heimdall explains. “So at first, I was unable to find him. But then, twice I noticed something odd happening in one of the Realms. A brief disturbance, and then I could see… _ someone _. Yet only a glimpse. The first time, I was not sure, hence I did not summon you. But  the second time-“_

_ “You were sure it was Loki,” Thor finishes for him. Sometimes, Heimdall can be rather plodding in his reports. “Where is he?” _

_ There’s a long pause, and then Heimdall says, the hesitation clear in his voice: “In the one place you most  _ _ wish him  _ not _to be.”_

_ “Midgard,” Thor says, closing his eyes in despair. He should have expected as much. Fool, he should have convinced Odin to send him there  _ immediately _, the moment they first learned of Loki’s escape. It_ is _the most obvious place Loki would run to, given how little he thinks of mortals. “And what mischief is he up to now?”_

_ “That, I cannot say. I was not able to see him well enough or long enough to determine  _ what _he is doing.” There is another long, hesitant pause. “However, I can tell you_ where _on Midgard he is. Who he is in proximity to.”_

_ Thor feels a sudden spiked coldness in his gut. He clenches his hand tightly around Mjölnir’s handle. “Tell me and be done with it, Heimdall.” _

_ “Your mortal. Jane Foster.” Heimdall says, and Thor thinks he sees compassion in the Gatekeeper’s gaze. Not that this is of any help to him at all. “Her friends, too – Dr. Selvig, and the other mortal girl. Beyond that, all else is hidden from me.” _

_ Thor does not think Darcy is in any danger from Loki. She does not know enough, unlike Erik Selvig. Erik probably is in danger, and Thor will not overlook that possibility. But foremost in his mind:  _ _ Jane- _

Jane. 

_ Loki’s angry voice rings all too clearly in Thor’s mind: _ “What happened to you on Earth that turned you so soft? Don’t tell me it was that woman….Oh, it _was_. Well, maybe, when we’re finished here, I’ll pay her a visit myself!”

_ No. He cannot abandon the woman he loves, cannot leave her prey to whatever evil Loki has planned for her.  _

_ If indeed Loki hasn’t already made good on his threat.  _

_ “Has Jane been harmed?” By Yggdrasil, Thor wishes Heimdall had some sense of  _ priorities _._

_ “As far as I can determine, not as yet.” The Gatekeeper looks mildly chagrined, which is probably the greatest emotional reaction Thor has ever seen in him. It does not comfort.   _

_ Thor’s hand clenches so tightly on Mjölnir, that he is sure the haft of a lesser weapon would have snapped in half. Distantly, thunder rumbles in the Asgardian sky. He must act fast, before Loki can. _

_ “I would send you, if I could,” Heimdall says, an apologetic note in his voice. He gestures at the ruin of the Bifröst. They have barely even begun to clear the wreckage away. _

_ “I know, and I thank you,” Thor says, already starting to turn away. _

_ “I shall wish you luck convincing the All-Father. With a confirmed sighting of Loki, however, I would think the All-Father will judge the need to be great, indeed,” Heimdall calls after him. _

_ Thor, vaulting back onto his horse, does not answer, but he hopes the Gatekeeper is correct.  _

_ Thor had put all other considerations before Jane up until now, at his father’s behest, and so long as he had known Jane was safe, he had played the role duty required of him. But now, if she will suffer (or worse) as a result of his absence, especially at the hands of his brother….no, Thor can delay no longer. _

_ If Odin will not aid him, Thor thinks yet another Odinson may have to steal the Tesseract. _

*~*~*

Jane wakes groggily up in a strange place once again, though things _feel_ different this time. She can’t quite put her finger on what’s changed, not at first.

When she sits up and looks around, the room she’s in is much fancier than any place Loki’s ever teleported her to before. Ornate carvings on the bed glimmer in the light of several tall candles. Heavy drapes that look like real velvet hang around windows that have to be at least two stories tall. The sheets under her feel like pure silk, the floor tiled in smooth stone. All the furniture is wooden and decorated in gold and green, and she knows somehow, without knowing how she does, that all the gold is _real_. 

But what’s odd is the way things are blurred at the edges of her vision. Everything shifts into sharp focus when she turns to look right at it, but everything else then shifts into softly blurred shapes. It’s bizarre. Trying to figure out where she is, Jane slips out of the bed and walks towards the nearest window.

She’d been understandably nervous after she left work earlier this evening, looking back frequently over her shoulder, even though she knew that to be a useless exercise – she would never be able to see him, not unless he allowed it.

By the time she’d gotten to her trailer, her hands had been shaking. She hadn’t believed for a second that Loki would really harm her, but that hadn’t really comforted her as much as she’d hoped. 

There was no way of knowing how far he’d try to push things, as Loki was unpredictable at best.  

Still, nothing had happened once she’d gotten home. She’d eaten dinner, she’d tried to read, she’d gone to bed, and all in a state of nervous arousal. But Loki hadn’t shown up to….do whatever he’d planned to do to her. 

Now she’s here, in this strange place. But the obvious luxury seems at odds with being ‘disciplined’. Or maybe that’s his plan? Trick her into a false sense of security, and then spring her ‘punishment’ on her just when she starts to relax? She wouldn’t put it past a trickster like him.

When she gets to the window and looks out, things become even more confusing. The sky is full of constellations she doesn’t recognize, even nebulas and pulsars. _Where the heck am I?_

_ Jane,  _ Loki’s voice whispers in her mind. She whirls around, but she’s still alone in the room. As far as she can tell. In fact, Loki’s voice, if she can call it that, seems to beckon her to leave the room, as if he called to her from outside.

For a moment she balks, not sure she’s ready for this. Still, Loki is the only potentially familiar thing here, so Jane leaves the window and moves towards the door. If he wants to punish her, let him get on with it, then. 

On the way out, she catches sight of herself in a tall mirror in the corner of the room, and she pauses, staring at herself. She walks over to stand in front of the mirror, examining her reflection. She hadn’t noticed up until now what she is wearing, but it’s like a nightgown, though not like anything she would ever pick out for herself. Two thin straps of gold lie over her shoulders, going down to a neckline that’s a little more risqué than what she would’ve chosen. The rest of the dress is a long length of golden lace, almost long enough to brush the floor, over an equally long layer of green satin. Underneath that, she’s wearing nothing at all, which becomes even more evident when she turns sideways, looking at herself from all angles. The dress has been completely slit up both sides, the bare flesh cross-tied with thin golden ribbons, from under her arms to halfway down her shins. She’s barefoot, too, but the stone floor feels only barely cool.

Apparently, Loki does have a taste for lingerie. 

_ Jane, come to me, _ whispers the voice softly and insistently in her head.

Well, she can ask him herself what his game is. She goes over to the door and pushes it open. A long, torch-lit corridor stretches out in front of her, stairs leading up in the distance into what seems to be a huge vaulted room. 

She starts down the hall, noticing that there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. She seems to get to the end of the hallway much faster than she would have expected, and she starts to climb the stairs. _This has to be a dream._ It’s the only thing that makes sense. A dream that Loki is once again controlling, twisting to his purposes, whatever those are.

What greets her at the top is even more stunning than the room she ‘woke’ in, a dim, torch-lit room large enough to contain probably ten football fields. The floor is tiled in dark grey, etched in places with intricate gold symbols, and the room is ringed with massive windows, except for the back wall, which is made up entirely of golden tiles. In the middle of that wall are another two flights of stairs topped by a massive throne of gold, also filigreed with symbols. 

There’s someone slouching on the throne, though Jane doesn’t recognize him at first, thanks to the horned helmet. She’s seen a similar one before, in those pictures of Loki she’d looked at back during the time he was stalking her, but it still takes a moment to register. 

“Jane Foster of Midgard,” he says formally, his voice echoing in the huge room, and then she’s sure it’s Loki. “Welcome to my home.”

_ Asgard, _ she thinks. Yes, she should’ve realized as much. “Is this…real?” she asks him, walking hesitantly forward, her feet whispering over the tiles.

“Though I  wish it were so, no. Merely a dream.” He stands, and Jane realizes it isn’t just the golden helmet that’s new to her. His armour is different as well, all gold and green, and very little black. His shoulders are less enhanced than in his usual get-up, and he’s got a green cape on as well. It takes her another moment to realize the green and gold hues of his armour match the dress she’s wearing.

“Come,” he beckons her forward, coming down a step or two towards her. He still cuts a very imposing figure, Jane decides, even though that helmet kind of makes her want to giggle.

Again, it doesn’t take as long as it should for her to cross the room. It doesn’t bother her much, though. Dream physics, right?

He motions her to a stop at the foot of the bottom flight of stairs. He’s still at the top, looming above her, and she remembers again what he’d said earlier that day. 

_ You are overdue for a session of discipline. _ Nervously, she drops her eyes. It’s a dream, but still. Everything feels real enough, and she imagines a spanking here will feel _plenty_ real.

“I see you remember your place,” he says imperiously, coming down another two slow steps. “I am your king, and you _would_ do well to remember it. I can be merciful,“ he pauses, “if I am first appeased.”

_ If he thinks he’s king- _ Jane wonders how to respond to that. Then it hits her, and she curtseys, as best she can in the form-fitting dress.

When she straightens up, he looks a little baffled. Maybe the ladies don’t curtsey in Asgard? She drops her eyes again. “My king,” she says. It feels strange in her mouth, but it doesn’t sound all that ridiculous, given the grandness of their surroundings, and besides, it’s still a dream. Her inner militant feminist can take a brief vacation.

He descends the stairs the rest of the way. His hand is warm and feels real enough when he raises her chin. He chuckles, meeting her gaze, and gives her a gentle, charming smile. “As I have said before, you are clever. Come.” His hand wraps around hers, tugging her lightly to follow him up the stairs. Towards the throne.

Halfway up, she stumbles a bit on the hem of the dress, almost pitching onto her knees, but Loki steadies her. She’s awkward even in dreams, apparently. 

She shakes her head and hikes up the hem of the dress a bit, looking up at the impressive throne again.

“Is that what it looks like in Asgard?” she asks him, gesturing towards it. 

“Near enough. This is based on my memories, after all, and I daresay there may be some inaccuracies.” He shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“No, just curious,” she says. When they get to the top of the dais, Loki releases her hand, settling back down into the throne. He looks up at her expectantly, but Jane stays in place, not sure what he wants from her. She looks back over her shoulder, but the vast room is empty of anyone else, the edges blurred away, as they were in the small bedroom she first ‘woke’ in. 

“Come, come,” he urges her, pulling her to stand in front of him. Between his spread legs.

His hands touch her sides, tracing along the edges of the ribbons, stroking her bare flesh. It’s half tickle and half caress, and Jane giggles, trying not to jerk away. 

“Do you like your dress?” he asks. “Because I must admit to being rather fond of the design.” His fingers slide under the ribbons, continuing to stroke softly along her skin. Her nerves tingle, responding to his touch.

“Yes,” she says, struggling to keep her voice steady. 

“Perhaps you should then _thank_ me,” he suggests, smirking.

Her militant feminist side hasn’t gone on vacation at all, apparently, because she has to resist the  urge to roll her eyes at him _. If he wants a blow-job, let him_ ask _for it. Especially after that stunt he pulled over the phone._

So she decides to tease right back. “How do you suggest I do so, my king?” she asks, pretending innocence. 

“Oh, still irritated with me for today’s earlier play?” he mocks, but gently. “I shall have to fix that.” He touches her cheek, then threads his fingers into her hair, drawing her face down and forward for a deep, heated kiss. It’s a bit of a delicate operation at first, as his face is partially covered by the helmet, but they manage to make it work. Jane can feel one edge of the helmet pressing coldly against her cheek as they slowly devour each other, and thinks: _Well, this one’s a first for me._

Jane presses her hands to his armoured chest for balance, as he continues to kiss her, his fingertips brushing lightly along her sides. When one of his hands eases forward, his thumbnail circling the outermost edge of her nipple through the dress, slow and teasing, she groans into his mouth and squeezes her thighs together. 

It almost takes her by surprise, how quickly she is responding to him. Then again, she’s been aroused all day, ever since his evil little phone call.

He breaks the kiss and grabs her hips, pulling her into his lap without warning, and Jane gasps. He smiles up at her, and Jane can’t help smiling back. Sometimes she finds it hard to remember all the bad things he’s supposedly done, when he smiles so charmingly like that.

But there’s also a lascivious glint in his eyes. When he places a warm hand on her thigh and slips it up right under the hem of her dress, cradling her wetness in his palm, Jane takes a sharply indrawn breath at the abruptness of it. OK, maybe not so easy to forget how evil he can be.

He laughs low, smirking. “So slick already for me? Wanton girl.” He slides two fingers right into her, easily, his thumb brushing lightly across her swollen clit, and Jane digs her nails into his caped shoulders. 

“What, no foreplay?” Jane chides him, biting back a moan.

He chuckles again, his eyes bright with mischief. “I thought our earlier conversation over the telephone _was_ foreplay.” He looks very pleased with himself, and Jane almost rolls her eyes again.

“Oh, is _that_ what that was? I was wondering,” Jane teases, though she’s not sure why she’s pushing him. Especially given the content of the _end_ of that conversation. 

Maybe it’s true, maybe she does want to be spanked by him. 

The corner of his mouth quirks. “Silence, impudent wench,” he says, but the silent laughter in his eyes takes any sting out of his words. The hand deep inside her begins to move, small back-and-forth motions, his thumb making tiny firm circles on her clit, and Jane’s logical abilities vanish out the huge windows.

She’d rather focus on what he’s doing to her, anyway. He tugs gently at the top of her dress with his free hand, pulling it down until her breasts are bare, then toys with her nipples, the hand between her legs beginning to push harder inside her. Jane lets her head roll back on her neck, digging her fingers into him, holding on for dear life, but she can still feel his eyes on her, watching her, calculating his next move.

He pulls her a little forward and she feels teeth graze the side of her neck, scraping over the healing bite-mark, and then he pulls her face back to his and kisses her. She groans into his mouth again, and feels his answering chuckle against her lips. 

Just as suddenly as he began, he pulls both hands away from her, and Jane fights back a whimper of frustration, but he’s not done with her yet. “Turn around,” he orders, eyes gleaming and the gravelly tone back in his voice. Jane obeys almost automatically, fully aware that his hand is busy at the fastenings of his pants, getting ready for whatever the next step in his scheme is. 

Loki pulls her back over his lap, gathers her dress up out of the way, and then enters her in one swift merciless thrust that seems to drive all the breath out of her lungs. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he leans forward, pressing his chest against her back, the metal of his armour cold against her skin.

The vast room in front of her suddenly ripples and twists. Maybe he’s losing a little of his control over the dream? She doesn’t know much about magic, but she wouldn’t be at all surprised if being in the throes of passion screwed up his illusions, at least a little. 

Or maybe it’s just her own neural overload. 

She braces her hands on the arms of the throne and closes her eyes, forgetting everything else but _sensation_ , enjoying the feeling of him inside her. He’s squeezing her nipples and thrusting slowly now within her, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel the cheek-piece of his helmet pressing coldly against her as he does this, and she breathes in the scents of leather and musk. If she cracks her eyes open just a bit she can see those crazy horns jutting out past her face from the corner of her eye, bobbing with his movements, and she has to smile a bit at the ridiculousness of that. 

His teeth tease at the edge of her ear, and a hand drops to her clit, working it with rough motions that are just a little _too_ rough, and Jane jerks away from him just a bit, trying to slow things down to a more comfortable pace. 

She glances out into the room again…and suddenly all her excitement turns to cold ashes.

They’re not alone any more. A single figure stands in the middle of the room, silent, watching her and Loki going at it. The figure is blurry at first and  indistinct, and she knows it’s not real, but it still creeps her out. Loki may be an exhibitionist (apparently), but not her!

Against her will, the image sharpens, and then she can see all too clearly who is looking up at them. He’s been shackled to the floor somehow, and he’s staring right up at them with an expression of jealous rage on his face. It’s the one person she doesn’t want to see right now, real or otherwise.

Thor.

“No!” Jane gasps, pulling up and off of Loki, wrenching her arm away when he tries to stop her. The skirt of her dress falls back into place, hiding the lower half of her body, and she crosses her arms across her chest, covering herself up as best she can and turning her back on their audience of one.

Loki raises his eyebrow questioningly at her, somehow still managing to look regal, despite having a raging, glistening hard-on. “He is not real,” he remarks mildly. 

“I don’t _care_ ,” Jane grits out, squeezing her arms tighter around herself, defensively.

“It’s only another harmless game,” Loki chides her. 

“I can’t do this, not with Thor fucking _watching_ us.” What is it with him and pushing at her boundaries, today?

Loki is starting to look slightly annoyed now, but he continues speaking in the same mild tones. “I thought you were angry with him.”

Jane stares at him as if he’s lost it. “I _am_.”

“Forgive me,” he says, and now there is a slight note of sarcasm in his voice. “I thought you wanted him to suffer for abandoning you.”

The pieces of the puzzle suddenly click into place for Jane. “You _want_ Thor to know about us, to be jealous of us. Except that if he finds out for real-“

“He is not going to find out. I have been taking careful steps to ensure that fact,” he shrugs, then looks at her speculatively. “You did not answer my question, Jane.”

She doesn’t really want to answer it, but after trying out a few versions in her head, she decides on: “I’m angry, yes, but I’m not _vindictive_ , OK?” 

He puts a finger to his lips, looking unconvinced, as if he thinks she is lying. _Right, like anyone could ever lie convincingly to_ him, she feels like pointing out. Especially her, Miss White Belt in Lying.

“Is there something else?” he continues, slowly. “Perhaps you still have feelings for my brother? I thought that you wanted to be with only me, but perhaps I was wrong.”

_ Christ, he can be  _ such _an idiot_. Jane makes an angry gesture with one hand. “You see me with anyone else, Loki?”

He cocks his head at her, brow furrowing, obviously still trying to solve whatever mystery he thinks her reaction represents. “Are you ashamed of us, Jane? Of our arrangement?”

“What? No!” _What the hell does that have to do with anything?_

He starts to say something else, but she cuts him off, anger making her enunciate every word. “The fact that I do not want to watch Thor watch _me_ getting off with his brother has nothing at all to do with who I want to be with, or who I am angry with, or anything else. It’s just fucking creepy, OK? Real or not real, it is _not_ a turn-on.”

“How disappointing,” he remarks calmly, a bored expression on his face as he tucks himself quickly back into his pants. 

He’s acting like _she_ ’s being the unreasonable one. “You’re not being fair!” Jane protests, but it’s already too late. A curt sweep of his hand, and the dream fragments around her, breaking into shards. She tries to hold onto it, but the pieces dissolve in front of her eyes and run away like water, leaving her in inky blackness.

She snaps awake in her own bed. All alone, no big surprise. _No fucking_ way, she seethes. _Not this time._ “Loki!” she calls.

She waits a beat or two, but if he’s here, if he’s listening, he gives no sign. She gets up out of bed and stands in the middle of her kitchen, her arms still crossed defensively over her chest. This could be like showing red to a bull, but she can’t stop herself.

“Loki! We have to talk, damn it!” They really _really_ need to set some ground rules, especially if he’s always going to react this way when she resists.

Nothing.

“I know you’re the God of Mischief and all, but there have to be limits!” Jane yells, not caring who might hear her.

Still nothing.

“Fuck!” Jane curses angrily, going back to her bed and flouncing down on it. 

And the worst thing is? She’s still horny. _Bloody hell._

She closes her eyes and takes several deep  breaths, trying to slow the racing of her heart. She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead, and it comes away sweaty.

Unwelcome thoughts crowd into her brain. _Are you ashamed of us, Jane? Of our arrangement?_ She can just hear his voice in her mind, the echo of the dream.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to think about that. 

_ But you _ are, _aren’t you?_ her traitorous mind whispers anyway. 

She is ashamed, yes, but not of him, nor of their arrangement. No, she’s only ashamed of herself, when she stops and really considers everything. Seeing Thor just now, even if he wasn’t real, had reminded her that he has no idea that she’s moved on. And she’s also ashamed because she’s still concealing the identity of her lover from everyone she cares about. 

Lying and sneaking around might be Loki’s bread and butter, but her?  Never.

_ But there’s nothing I can do about it. _ She has no way to tell Thor it’s over, and she can’t let anyone here know what’s going on. She can’t risk losing her life’s work, and maybe even her freedom, especially when she has no idea if Loki is even up to anything. Well, anything beyond making her life a complicated mess.

_ You’re assuming that you didn’t piss Loki off so much, that he won’t come back this time _ , a negative little voice nags at her in her head.

_ He asked for it, _ she snarks back. But that doesn’t make her feel better.

She finally gets under the covers and rolls over, too dispirited to even think about taking care of the ache between her legs. 

_ What if he doesn’t come back? _

_ Maybe that would be for the best, _ the other side of her brain answers.

This isn’t helping anything, so Jane does her best to think of other things. Constellations, star-charts, calculations for Einstein-Rosen bridges. It’s a struggle at first.

She’s finally relaxed and right on the edge of sleep when a new thought occurs out of nowhere: _He’ll be back. He has nobody else. Here, or in Asgard. Or anywhere._

It’s enough to snap her back to full wakefulness. She stares into the dark confines of her trailer. Oh Christ, it’s so true. 

And so _sad_.

*~*~*

The next day Jane is back at the lab, tired and grumpy and unable to focus, wondering if Loki is going to try to pull some new stunt today, or if she’s even going to hear from him. He hadn’t seemed angry last night, exactly, but he’s just so unpredictable that Jane really has no clue what he’ll do next. If anything.

She tells Darcy and Erik that she had a bad night when they give her concerned looks, and she spends most of the morning hunched over her notes and trying not to think about Loki, and everything that happened yesterday. 

About mid-morning there’s the sound of Erik opening the fridge door in the kitchen area behind Jane, and then a loud, annoyed sigh. “We’re all out of food,” he says.

“Time to stock up again?” Jane asks absently. 

“Yes. You two want to come along? It’ll go faster with three of us.”

Normally Jane would go along, but there’s just too much crap in her head right now. Maybe some alone time here will help her to sort through it all. “I’ll pass this time.”

“ _I_ won’t,” says Darcy. “I think my eyes will fall out of my head if I don’t take a break from coding Jane’s data.”

Jane nods. “Go ahead, you two. And bring me back some Doritos, OK?”

“Sure,” says Darcy. 

Silence settles over the lab after they’ve left, and Jane sighs and presses the palms of her hands over her eyes. _What exactly were you expecting?_ she scolds herself. _You’re sleeping with the damned Norse god of mischief. You really didn’t think that he wouldn’t try to pull some crazy things?_

Which leads to another unwelcome thought: What exactly is Loki doing when he _isn’t_ with her? She could ask, of course, when (if!) she sees him again….but what if she doesn’t like the answer? If it has anything to do with alien invasions or world domination, she’s back between a rock and a hard place all over again. She shakes her head and drops her hands back onto the table.

Unexpectedly, something green and gold shimmers at the edge of her vision, outside the lab windows. Jane turns to look, nearly knocking her half-full mug of cold coffee right off the desk with her elbow.

Loki is standing outside the window smirking in at her. He’s wearing yet another variation of his Asgardian armour, one with more gold metal plating, the green cape, and a slightly different version of the golden helmet. It still features those insane horns, though.

“Oh. My. God.” Jane mutters. Then the panic hits – what if someone _sees_ him?  

Jane scrambles ungracefully out of her desk chair, meeting up with Loki at the door to the lab. 

She can’t help looking him up and down, trying to ignore how his grin widens at her reaction. “Wow, ostentatious, much?” she can’t help pointing out. “And what the hell are those supposed to be, anyway?” she continues, pointing at the golden horns. “Antlers of doom?”

He chuckles indulgently. “Some might call them that.”

Jane almost asks him jokingly if he’s compensating for something, but then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed with him. 

Also, he’s once _again_ somewhere she doesn’t want him to be – here! “Are you insane?” she snaps. “I told you yesterday over the phone that I didn’t even want you calling me at work, and now you show up here in person, especially dressed like _that_?”

He smiles and leans extravagantly against the doorframe. “No one but you can see me.”

Jane ponders that a moment, then realizes the implications. “Oh great, so anybody walking by right now will look over, see me talking to myself, and call the men in white coats on me.”

At his raised eyebrow, Jane quickly amends: “They’ll think I’m crazy!”

“I can easily conceal you, as well,” Loki remarks, with a mild tone similar to the one from her dream. “Though at the moment, such is not required. There is no one around to see us.”

“How can you be so sure?” Jane asks, her hands twisting nervously together.

He shrugs. “I have many powers of which you are not aware, my Jane.”

She’s not sure what to say to that, but he doesn’t give her much of a chance to answer, pushing himself away from the doorframe (he has to duck a little, so his horns don’t catch on the top of the door) and grasping her upper arms, pulling her to him for a kiss.

His fingers tangle in her hair, and it takes a second for him to line her up just right, as once again the cheek-pieces of the helmet want to get in the way, but he does it so skillfully that Jane has to wonder for a second if he’s kissed a lot of girls while wearing the ‘antlers of doom’.

She tries not to relax against him – he still has lots of bullshit to answer for – but it’s difficult. He’s really too good at this, his tongue gently exploring her mouth, and it doesn’t take much to get her aroused all over again, especially after yesterday. Who says only men can have ‘blue balls’?

He pulls away at last. “I am sorry,” he says, his eyes meeting hers directly.

Jane’s not sure she heard him right. “Excuse me?”

“I am sorry,” he repeats. “For last night. I should not have allowed my anger at Thor to intrude upon us. Nor should I have reacted so unkindly.” A slow smile spreads across his face then, puzzling Jane. “Though,” he adds, “I shall _not_ apologize for my phone call last morn.”

Jane rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove in the chest, though it barely moves him. “You’re incorrigible,” she mutters.

“A necessary requirement of being the God of Mischief,” he replies loftily, eyes glittering gleefully at her. 

Jane slaps at his shoulder playfully, but this time her hand passes right through him, and suddenly Loki shimmers and disappears from in front of her. _What the-_

Out of the blue she’s grabbed from behind, and Jane yelps in surprise as Loki’s strong hands pull her back hard against him. Warm  breath swirls against her ear. “Also, I must admit, my lust for you does tend to inspire misbehaviour in me. Perhaps if you were to aid me with that?” he suggests playfully. He pushes his hips into her, and there’s no mistaking his arousal. 

“Down, big boy,” Jane growls, but it’s half-hearted at best. If she’s honest with herself, she wants him too. Especially after yesterday’s endless teasing. 

And he did apologize, sort of.

But the lab has way too many windows, and despite Loki’s assurances that he can hide them both, even in plain sight, she feels way too exposed here. Not to mention, what if Darcy and Erik come back?

Well, there’s still one relatively private place in here. “Come with me,” she says, taking Loki’s hand and leading him towards the bathroom. Luxurious, it isn’t, but it will have to do.

She pulls him in after her (again, he has to duck his horned head) and shuts and locks the door behind them both. Critically, she looks around, ignoring Loki’s expectant smirk. There really isn’t much to work with. A toilet, a pedestal sink, and a mirror above. That’s it. 

Loki is still waiting, so Jane makes a decision and grabs his arm, lowering the toilet seat’s cover and guiding him to sit down on it. It creaks alarmingly, and Jane wonders again how heavy all that armour must be. Well, this isn’t the time or place to get it all off of him, she supposes.

She kneels down between his legs, and starts to fumble with the complicated fastenings at his…fly? Well, whatever Asgardians call it.

Loki clears his throat, and Jane looks up to see him raising his eyebrows at her. “If this is the way you intend to ‘punish’ me for appearing to you at your place of work, be assured that this is likely to lead to exactly the _opposite_ effect,” he informs her wryly.

Jane shakes her head, finally working free the last lacing. “That’s not why I’m doing this. You asked me for ‘help’ and I’m giving it to you. Besides, last I checked, I owe you a couple orgasms.” 

His eyebrows lift even higher at that. “Keeping score, my dear? No need. It is not a competition. In fact, if you are ‘ahead’ of me in that fashion, I take that as a sign of my skills as a lover.” He sounds so smug, so pleased with himself, that Jane has to laugh. _Of course he would._

Jane wraps her hand around his length, stroking him gently, teasingly. “But,” she insists, “I want you to promise me that these…incidents at the lab will stop. After _this_ , anyway.”

Loki pouts down at her, or tries to. He’s having obvious difficulty, especially when Jane lets her hand speed up ever so slightly. “Perhaps I don’t want to promise that. Perhaps I enjoy stoking the fires of your passion, whenever, wherever, and however I choose.” He sounds almost petulant, but then the commanding edge worms its way back into his voice. “Perhaps that is my right, within the bounds of our arrangement.”

Jane lets her strokes slow to a crawl, ignoring his _look_. “There have to be limits, Loki. The lab is a place where we can’t play, not in the future. That’s just the way it has to be.”

Loki rolls his head back in exasperation, the tips of his horns barely missing goring the plaster. “And take that damned thing off, before you wreck the walls,” Jane adds sharply.

He gives her another _look_. “You are forgetting your place again, wench.” He flexes his right hand, in a way that Jane is probably supposed to take as a warning. A reminder that her ‘discipline’ may be dealt out at any time.

But she isn’t going to cave, not on this issue, so she stops touching him entirely and stands up, puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. “Stop. I’m _serious_.” 

He throws up his hands dramatically. “Very well, Jane Foster,” he concedes, rolling his eyes as if she is the most annoying person he’s ever encountered. “No more ‘games’ at your place of work. I swear it by Yggdrasil.” 

He remembers to remove the helmet, and Jane’s eyes widen in surprise as he makes a swirling movement with his hands, the helmet winking out of existence.

“That’s a neat trick,” she remarks. 

“It can indeed be most useful at times,” Loki agrees. “And now, as I have acquiesced to your demands…” He pauses significantly.

Jane goes to her knees again, and takes him deep into her mouth in one movement.

Loki hisses and cups her head in his hands, pushing her hair out of her face, watching her move her lips slowly along his shaft. The intensity of his gaze makes her feel somehow both shy and aroused.

She traces the tip of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, following the pulsing veins. She  breathes in his scent, makes herself look up to watch him as he watches her. When she reaches into his pants again to gently ease his balls free, and to stroke them lightly, he growls something in a language she doesn’t know. He slides a hand behind her neck, though his fingertips first trace along the circle of the bite-mark, and an expression crosses his face too quickly for Jane to identify. 

It doesn’t matter. Her knees are starting to protest being on the hard floor, so Jane closes her eyes and takes him deep into her mouth again, moving up and down, slow at first and then faster and faster, one of her hands moving along the rest of his shaft in tandem with her mouth. 

Loki’s hand tightens on her shoulder almost hard enough to hurt, then loosens. Both his hands then fall away from her, and when she opens her eyes again, they are clenched into fists on his knees, his pale face flushed and his eyes dark as he looks down at her. He feels hard as steel against her tongue and lips, and he starts to gasp in a way she recognizes.

“Jane,” he says warningly, “I am going to-“ 

But she _wants_ to taste him, so she doesn’t stop. He growls words in the unknown language again, the sounds rumbling in his chest, and spills himself across her tongue; he tastes bitter (which is rather appropriate), but Jane swallows anyway, takes all of him in. 

Loki gasps harshly and closes his eyes, and Jane can see the shorter strands of hair around his face pasted to his skin with sweat. She lets him go and wipes her hand across her mouth, pleased that she was able to please him, but her knees can’t take much more, so she gets shakily to her feet.

He runs his fingers through his hair, slicking the loose strands back and out of his face, and smiles warmly up at her. Actually, on second thought, he looks _very_ pleased with himself, above and beyond what Jane would expect from someone finally getting his sexual release. It suddenly occurs to Jane that goading her into taking control might have been his plan all along? She wonders, but not for long.

His smile turns suddenly wicked. “My turn to have my evil way with you, little one,” he purrs. He doesn’t even bother to lace himself back up, but stands, crowding her back into the wall, and then wraps long fingers around her upper arms. 

He kisses her, slow, hot and deep, then spins her around, turning her to face away from him, and pushes her forward until she’s leaning over the cold edge of the sink. She watches in the mirror as he  flashes her his patented evil smirk, then he sinks gracefully to the floor. Deft fingers shift her hips back a bit, giving him more room to work, and then pop open the buttons on her jeans, and Jane already has to resist squirming.

He yanks her jeans roughly down off her hips, and her underwear follows suit right after, Jane gripping the sink’s edge tightly to keep from being pulled off her feet. Impatiently, he jerks the clothing down and off one foot, almost ripping her shoe off in the process, and then he shoves her legs wide apart. He pauses for a long moment, and Jane feels herself blush bright red, knowing he’s getting an up-close eyeful.

He separates her folds and she tries not to writhe, all too aware how wet she already is. When he  smoothes his tongue along her centre, she has to bite off a moan. He chuckles low against her skin, then flicks his tongue against her clit, laughing again when she jumps slightly. “So sensitive,” he remarks, a caressing edge in his voice. “So many possible ways I can use that to my advantage, to make you squirm and beg me for release,” he purrs, and Jane clenches her hands harder on the sink edges, trying not to think about what he could possibly mean. Does he mean here and now, or is that a future threat (promise)?

She has to bite her lip, hard, to silence her gasp when he changes tactics, his tongue now softly teasing at her entrance, while his fingertips paint slow, easy circles on her aching clit. 

He pauses all too soon, and she almost screams at him not to stop. “Beg me,” he  urges her, and she wonders if mind-reading is one of those powers that he hinted at earlier.

“Please, Loki,” she moans. She doesn’t have the will to resist him, she just wants to finally, _finally_ , please God (of Mischief), be allowed to come.

He presses on her just a bit harder, just a bit faster, and slides his tongue into her, and her legs are shaking so hard she feels like she can barely stand. She has to fight to lock her knees, and Loki’s arm wraps around her hip, part holding her up and part keeping her from escaping.

Jane burrows her head into the crook of her arm, trying to muffle her noises just in case Darcy and Erik have already come back – she can’t hear anything over the roar of blood in her ears. 

He takes it up one more level, and it doesn’t take her too much longer to climax. Hell, she doesn’t even know how she lasted this long, considering she’s been aroused on and off (and then on again) so many times over the course of the last twenty-four hours or so.

When she can move and think again, she pushes slowly up onto her elbows, looking in the mirror. He’s already standing behind her, meeting her eyes with a lewd expression as he licks clean the pads of his fingers with slow relish.

His eyes shift, and Jane realizes he’s focusing instead on the bite-mark on her neck, now visible since her scarf was displaced sometime during all the festivities. Jane shrugs inwardly and starts to pull her clothes back on, the rustle behind her indicating that Loki is doing the same. 

When they are both dressed, he steps forward until he’s pressed up against her back again, and his fingertips pull her scarf aside, stroking gently across the mark. Half a second later, it’s gone. Jane’s eyes widen in surprise, and her fingers go reflexively to touch the spot, her fingertips brushing against his where they still rest on her neck.

Then she frowns. She can’t see it, but it’s still there; she can feel the small scabs even now. She looks back into the mirror to meet Loki’s gaze again. “Unfortunately, I do not possess the ability to heal another,” he says, “but I can hide the evidence, at least, so that you do not have to. Perhaps there may come a time when you can wear my marks openly, but I can appreciate that such a time is not yet come.”

Possessed by a sudden impulse, Jane turns and hugs him, pressing her face into his chest. For a moment he stands as still as a marble statue, and Jane feels something inside her freeze, as well, wondering if she’s crossed some line, shown more emotion than he will tolerate within the bounds of their arrangement. Too late to undo it, however. 

“Thank you,” she says. Though again, there’s that other side of her, whispering nervously: _‘Wear my marks’?_

_ He giveth, and he taketh away, _ she says to herself. It figures.

She feels his hand touch her hair, stroking softly, and he seems to relax a little against her. She can’t help feeling that this is something of a victory. 

Outside, though the sky is clear and cloudless, low thunder mutters ominously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki go all caveman over one Dr. Jane Foster. And she is NOT amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: As usual, much love and Loki!costumes to the awesome canyr12.  
> Disclaimer: So not mine. And that makes me want to cry!  
> Author’s Note: I have not read any of the comics (nor is it likely I will ever find the time to do so), thus this is all based on movie canon. 
> 
> And apologies to my readers for the long delay…apparently Loki and Thor had a LOT to say to each other! *glares at them*
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> Banner courtesy of the lovely **cincoflex**!
> 
>  

Loki’s head jerks up, looking towards the bathroom’s tiny window. Jane doesn’t know what he’s seeing – the window is frosted, after all - but whatever it is he’s reacting to, he doesn’t seem to like it. 

“What is it?” she asks, tugging gently at his arm.

He seems to suddenly remember she’s there with him. “Nothing of concern to you, my Jane,” he says. The words themselves come out sounding rather rude, but his fingers caressing softly down her cheek take any sting out of them.

“I must leave you now,” he says, and he steps away from her, conjuring his helmet back into existence. Jane feels sudden anxiety grab her by the gut and shake her. _Something is wrong,_ she realizes. 

“Loki, what-“ she starts, but he cuts her off.

“Remain here,” he orders her, his voice hard and commanding. “Go about your usual tasks. There is nothing at all for you to concern yourself with.” 

Then he’s gone between one eye-blink and the next.

Jane clenches her fists, taking a deep breath. Whatever is going on, there’s nothing she can do about it. Anything that can make Loki nervous – he hadn’t seemed _scared_ , right? – is almost certainly not something Jane can help him with. 

Or so she keeps telling herself. She checks her clothes and face in the mirror one last time, then pushes the door to the bathroom open, just as Darcy and Erik are coming through the front door of the lab.

She tries to hold a casual conversation with them as she helps them unpack the groceries, taking the bag of Doritos Darcy had bought her. But her mind is elsewhere, her nerves all tangled up in knots. Where has Loki gone? And what the hell is going on? 

Out of the blue, she realizes Darcy is staring at her. “Jane, are you OK? Usually you have the bag of chips half-empty within the first five minutes.” She gestures at the Doritos.

“Um, yeah. I’m….not really hungry. Actually, I’m not feeling so hot,” Jane mutters. It’s not far from the truth.

“I hear there’s a stomach flu going around,” Erik says. “Maybe you should go and rest in your trailer, Jane?”

_ That’s not a bad idea, _ Jane realizes. Let’s face it, she probably won’t get much done here at the lab, not with the way she feels right now. Even going over today’s classified ads for apartments, something which she’s been finding to be a nice break from the research work at times, doesn’t really appeal to her right now.

And she can do without Erik and Darcy’s worried looks. They mean well, and she can certainly understand their curiosity, but of course she can’t actually _tell_ them what’s going on with Loki. So avoiding them until she works this out is probably the path of least resistance.

“I think I will, actually. I’ll take some notes with me and work on some stuff in bed, if I feel up to it later. Thanks.” She gives them both a quick hug and gathers some notes. 

It has suddenly become very dark outside, with angry grey clouds moving quickly overhead, and Jane stops just before pushing the door of the lab open. Even though it’s a really _really_ short walk from the lab to her trailer, lightning has always made Jane anxious.

Plus the second-guessing has already begun, and she’s starting to feel like an idiot. _Had_ Loki actually been nervous? Maybe that had all been in her head. So what if he’d seemed distracted, had put on his helmet…that didn’t necessarily mean something _bad_ was happening. Maybe she should just stay right here and go back to work.

Heck, maybe it’s another of his tricks, an attempt to mess with her in a new way. Perhaps he’s _trying_ to make her worry, to unsettle her, so that she’ll be all the more happy to give in to whatever kinky schemes he comes up with next. She wouldn’t put it past him.

In the end, she decides that she needs the privacy right now. She says goodbye to Darcy and Erik, both of them so absorbed in arguing good-naturedly about the fresh bread (should it stay on the counter or go into the freezer?) that they almost don’t notice her leaving. Taking one last uneasy glance up at the sky, Jane walks quickly towards the trailer. 

She has to stop for a moment to fumble with her keys, but she freezes when she hears voices. Two of them, male, and both of them familiar, coming from the other side of the trailer. She presses her hand to her mouth, eyes widening. _Oh my God._

Loki. And Thor. 

She can’t make out what they’re saying, so she puts her notes down, placing a big rock on top of them so they won’t blow away, and she edges slowly along the side of the trailer, peeking around the corner. Nothing, they must be behind it, so she moves closer to the sound of their voices, inch by inch, until she can peer around the back corner of the trailer. She’s not sure why she’s trying to sneak up on them, exactly, but it seems like the right thing to do, under the circumstances.

But it’s so weird, because even once she gets to what should be the right position, she can still see _nothing_. There’s only the empty desert behind her trailer, though something seems to be wrong with the air. Jane’s not sure how to describe it even to herself; it seems to be shimmering, and though that’s not unusual in a desert, this shimmer seems _strange_ to her, unnatural. 

She can still hear them, though, they should be right _there_ , and Jane shakes her head and squints, focusing on the spot where their voices seem to be coming from. Is this another of Loki’s tricks?

She squints until her eyes water, concentrating as hard as she can, and just as her head is starting to ache from the strain, there’s a sudden _shift_ in her vision. She can finally see them, confronting each other, both of them in full armour, Thor holding his hammer. Loki looks like he’s unarmed, but Jane doesn’t think he’s any less dangerous. He’s pacing back and forth slowly in front of Thor, a malicious smile on his face. 

Jane hasn’t seen him look like that, not since the beginning, when he’d been playing the menacing stalker. It makes something uncomfortable twist in her gut.

“I’ll ask you again, Loki. What have you done with Jane?” Thor snarls, and he hefts the hammer – Mjölnir, Erik said it was called, Jane remembers, though why would she be remembering something so unimportant at a time like this?

Loki’s answering laugh is low and vicious. “Your precious Jane Foster. You left her all alone. What did you expect would happen? I did tell you I would ‘visit’ her.“ He cocks his head. “Perhaps she is not as important to you as you would have her believe?”

“Such matters are between her and me,” Thor snaps. “I’ll ask you _yet_ again, brother-“

“Are you slow?” Loki snarls back. “We are not brothers. We never were, and we never shall be. Especially not now.” He smiles again, but it’s so fierce that it makes Jane shiver. “As for Jane Foster….she is mine now, _brother_. She was yours, but you did not take the opportunity when it was presented, and how could I not take advantage? So I now know her far more…. _intimately_ than you ever have. Does that burn you?”

Thor growls and raises Mjölnir higher, but Loki only laughs louder. “If you have hurt her-“ Thor threatens.

“Does it haunt your dreams at night, Thor? Do you picture your beloved moaning, _screaming_ as I…. _torture_ her? Is that why you are finally here to _save_ her from me?”

Jane wonders if Loki is being deliberately vague, that maybe he wants Thor to think that he has been hurting her, rather than sleeping with her. And if so, _why_.

It’s a side of him Jane has never really seen before. Sure, he’d been threatening and angry back in the days when he’d been stalking her, but even compared to that, this is a new level of vicious. She almost doesn’t recognize him (assuming she really knows him to begin with, which she’s starting to wonder about, frankly), and she finds herself questioning once again just how much of the evil he’s supposedly committed in the past is all true. 

And yet…it doesn’t seem to match up. Not with the man (god) she’s been sleeping with over the past couple of weeks. 

Thor takes a step forward towards Loki, every line of his body poised to attack, but Loki seems unconcerned. There’s a low rumble above her, and when she looks up the storm clouds are moving way too fast, circling in ominous patterns. 

But Loki is taunting Thor again. “Jealous, _brother_? As I recall, you have tasted but one set of her lips. But I have tasted _both_ sets of them. And I would be hard-pressed to say which of them was the sweeter.” 

Jane’s jaw almost comes unhinged. _I can’t_ believe _he just said that…_ Neither can Thor, apparently, because he bellows like an enraged bull and charges right at Loki-

And then blunders right through him, because the Loki Thor and Jane have been watching turns out to be merely one of Loki’s illusions.

“Over here, brother,” Loki taunts, materializing in a new place. He laughs mockingly. “What ails you, Thor? Am I stealing your _thunder_?” 

“You are going to pay dearly for what you have done to her,” Thor rages, and then throws his hammer at the new Loki.

The same thing happens again, though. The hammer impacts, and the fake Loki shatters away to nothing. 

“As I once observed, are you ever not going to fall for that?” Loki’s voice comes from yet another place, but this time there are no duplicates, only a voice hanging in the air. 

“Come out and face me, coward!” Thor bellows, and a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky. Too late, Jane wonders if it’s actually a good idea for her to be here.

“Perhaps you are beginning to see the merits of being a magic-user?” Loki’s voice continues, seeming to come from several places at once. “You and the others, you always looked down on me for my magecraft. Called my spells _woman’s magic_. And yet, who has the upper hand now? You, with all your strength – useless, against that which you cannot _see_.” He laughs darkly again.

“I have my own magic, Loki,” Thor points out. He raises the hammer high overhead, and a sudden bolt of lightning careens down from the sky, crashing all around him-

The shock of it strikes Jane hard, throwing her down into the dirt, her ears ringing. Sluggishly, she shakes her head, fighting to get back to her feet.

When she finally staggers back to her previous position, she sees that Thor’s ploy has worked. Loki has appeared again in the flesh, kneeling in the dirt in front of Thor.

“Tell me where she is, Loki. Now!” Thor rumbles. He raises the hammer again, and it looks like he’s about to bring it down right on Loki’s horned head.

At which point Jane decides she’s seen enough. “Stop, Thor! I’m here!” She scrambles forward, trying to get there before any more damage is done.

Thor turns, lowering Mjölnir and smiling at her in relief. But Jane switches her gaze quickly to Loki, whose head jerks in her direction. He looks startled at first, and then it seems like a million emotions she can’t read are flickering over his face, rapid as Thor’s lightning strike. 

Jane doesn’t stop to think, she just runs over to Loki’s side and drops to her knees in the smoking dirt. “Loki, are you-?”

“What are you doing here, woman?” he asks harshly. “Did I not tell you-“

“Jane?” Thor cuts in, and Jane looks up to see confusion and shock on Thor’s face. Then his expression hardens. “What have you done to her, brother? Are you controlling her mind?”

Loki sneers over Jane’s shoulder at Thor. “I did not need to, _brother_.”

 “You are lying,” Thor scoffs. “Jane would never willingly-“

“Would you both stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” Jane snaps angrily, and now both of them look at her, both their expressions five parts confusion and one part puzzlement.

“I’m not being mind-controlled, Thor,” Jane insists, getting to her feet. It doesn’t help matters much; it reminds her too vividly of the last time she saw him, and part of her aches at the memory of that kiss. But one tender kiss did not make up for everything that had come after. 

Or rather, everything that had _not_ come after.

“I thought you were never coming back, Thor,” she tries to explain calmly. “And then, when I heard about the Battle of Manhattan and that you had been here on Earth, and you hadn’t even taken the time to say hello, well….” She shrugs. “What was I supposed to think?”

Thor stares at her for a long moment. “I made sure the Son of Coul put you somewhere safe, so that _he_ could not harm you-“ Thor glares over at Loki again “-that was my main concern-“

“I know that, and I appreciate it. Really, I do. But once the battle was over, you didn’t even pick up a fucking _phone_ , Thor.” Despite her best efforts, her voice is rising, the anger she’s trying to hold back starting to surface again.

“I needed to get Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard as soon as possible, Jane. Surely you can understand and forgive-“

“Not strictly true,” Loki pipes up behind them, getting to his feet with a bitten-off groan and shaking the dust off his green cloak. “What about your little foray for _shawarmo_ , or whatever that Midgardian meat was called?”

This is news to Jane. She stares at Loki, blinks, then looks over at Thor again.

“ _What?_ ” Her anger goes up another level.

“How do you even know of that, Loki?” Thor asks, seeming to forget for the moment all about their audience.

Loki snorts derisively. “My mortal guards at SHIELD liked to talk. They found it amusing, the idea of the ‘superhero brigade having a snack’, as they put it.”

Loki turns back to Jane, the malicious glint back in his eyes. “Oh yes, he had time for a brief repast, before hauling me back before the All-Father. But not the time to deign to speak to the woman he claims to _love_ ,” Loki continues gloatingly. “Isn’t that interesting, my dear Jane?”

“Be silent,” Thor rasps, raising the hammer again in threat, but Jane steps between them, too angry with both of them now to think about her own personal safety. “Is it true?” she asks Thor, her voice rising even further. Soon the trailer windows will shatter, at this rate.

“Oh, it’s true,” Loki says conspiratorially. “He had his mortal lackeys put me in a cell, then he pushed me down on the floor and laid Mjölnir on my chest, knowing I could not lift it. And then he went off to carouse with his new allies, leaving me for the mortals to stare and laugh at.” Loki cocks his head. “Some things do not change, no matter the Realm.”

There’s a certain bitterness in Loki’s voice, and Jane thinks she can understand why, but that’s for later. Right now, she wants to hear Thor _say_ it. “Did you actually take the time to go and hang out with the Avengers, before returning to Asgard?” she asks, anger burning hot in her chest.

Thor looks ashamed now, and that tells Jane everything she needs to know. “I am sorry, Jane. I did not think to contact you. I was exhausted, and at the time, I suppose I assumed that with the Tesseract in Asgardian hands, that I would be able to come back much sooner. I did not know that Odin would forbid any further use of it. And without a working Bifröst still…” He pauses, then looks at Jane pleadingly. “Can you not understand, my love? I am the heir to Asgard’s throne, and thus I must put my own desires and needs aside, in the face of making sure the Realms are protected. I wanted to be with you, but there were larger things at stake. I thought that you would understand.”

Jane finds herself shaking her head. It makes sense from a logical standpoint. Of course making sure Earth was safe from Loki and the aliens should have been Thor’s first priority. Of course getting back to Asgard with the Tesseract should have overridden all other concerns. Her intellect totally agrees.

But her heart? That’s a different story. If Asgard and Earth came before her then, how many times in the future might the same thing repeat itself?

Truth is, Jane is tired of being the second (or third, or _sixth_ ) priority in someone else’s life. In fact, isn’t that part of the reason why she wound up with Loki, in a twisted way? He has no one else but her, right?

Which reminds her of something else. She turns to Loki. “You knew about this, and you didn’t bother to tell me?” she asks angrily.

Loki shrugs indifferently. “What would have been the point? To increase your pain and anger? You already were not pleased with Thor. What would such an admission gain me?”

Jane glares at him. “Guess what, Loki? It’s not all about you-“

“Jane,” Thor cuts in, anger and impatience starting to edge his own words, “can you not see that I did all I could? I came the moment I realized that Loki was here, and that he could be a danger to you-“

But that admission only fuels her anger, which is probably not what Thor is going for. “So, what you’re telling me now is that I’m not really that important to you, unless you think you have to rescue me? Wow, that’s really not helping your case. I’ve been here waiting the _whole_ time, looking for a way to get to you, and you only remember I exist when you think I’m a damsel in distress?”

Thor is starting to look irritated himself, and Jane glances over at Loki to see him smirking, his gaze moving between the two of them as if he is watching the world’s funniest tennis match. “Try not to look so amused, brother,” Thor growls, and Loki’s delight becomes even more obvious. “Why should I not be?” he retorts. “Everyone in Asgard fawns over your every gesture and word, thinking that you can do no wrong. Finally, someone sees you for what you are. No, I shall truly enjoy every precious moment of this, _brother_.” 

Thor hefts his hammer, his eyes darkening in anger, and steps around Jane. “I do not think that you and I can have a reasonable discussion about this at the present time, Jane Foster. I think it best if Loki and I settle this first, in our own fashion.”

Loki gestures, his grin widening, and suddenly he’s holding two glowing daggers. “To the victor go the spoils?”

_ He’s talking about _ me, Jane realizes. _I’m the ‘spoils’_. Her militant feminist side starts yelling and screaming at the indignity, and Jane barely restrains the urge to do the same out loud. “Now, wait one _minute_ -“

Loki frowns at her. “This is no place for fragile mortals.” He makes a sharp gesture with one hand, and suddenly Jane’s vision goes white.

She blinks and squints, her eyes watering. When her vision finally clears, everything has changed. Her trailer is gone, Loki and Thor are gone, and she’s standing all alone…on the exact opposite edge of town. 

“You son of a bitch!” she yells in frustration, to nobody in particular. The empty desert at her back shimmers, seeming to mock her with its silence.

_ I’m not some piece of meat for them to fight over like cave-men _ . She’s going to put a stop to this stupidity. Taking a deep steadying breath, she starts running, heading back into town, back towards her trailer.  

Ahead of her, she can see bolts of lightning sizzling down from the sky, feel the crashing boom of the thunder shaking the earth beneath her feet. All around her, the people on the street are hurrying for cover. 

Jane’s lungs and legs soon start to ache, forcing her down to a fast walk. She notices that people are staring at her as she rushes by. More than she would have expected, considering everyone else is moving just as fast, trying to get out from under the black clouds.

She slows and glances into a store window, finally noticing the big smear of dirt down one of her cheeks, and the mud smeared across her shirtfront. It probably happened during Thor’s initial lightning attack on Loki. She wipes at her cheek and swipes at her clothing distractedly, and tries to speed back up to a slow run at the very least.

Another bolt of lightning arcs down from the sky, and it gives her pause for a second. Maybe Loki has a point. She almost got hurt already, she’s not a god, and the next lightning strike could well kill her. Maybe she should just wait for the fireworks to end?

But after fidgeting for a full minute, she decides she can’t just wait on the sidelines. She doesn’t know if Thor can or would kill Loki, or vice-versa, but she doesn’t want either of them to die, and she doesn’t really want them to fight over her either. Maybe that’s how they settle disputes in Asgard, but this is _her_ backyard and they’d better follow _her_ rules.

Or so she repeats over and over to herself, trying to run all-out again, for as long as her body can take it. _I really need to start exercising more._

The storm is winding down just as Jane finally gets close enough to see her trailer. _I don’t know if that’s a good sign,_ she realizes, stumbling over her own feet as she races around behind the trailer. At least the trailer itself is still here, and seems intact.

She races around it, but skids to a clumsy stop once she realizes that Loki’s cloaking spell is still in place, and that they are hidden from view again. Assuming they’re even still here. But the unnatural shimmer still hangs in the air, so Jane figures Loki must be around at the very least. She leans over, bracing her hands on her knees and trying to catch her breath, then she narrows her eyes and tries once again to ‘see’ through the layers of illusion.

Shooting pains lance through her temples, but she doesn’t stop, staring at the last place she saw them and willing herself to _see_.

When she can finally get her eyes to pierce the veil, the sight that greets her doesn’t reassure. Loki is sitting heavily on the ground, his face bruised, cut and bloodied, and he’s cradling his left side. Thor, looming over him, seems to have fared better, even though his face is bruised too, and he has two daggers stuck into him, one in his shoulder and the other in his left side. Two other bloodied daggers lie discarded in the sand.

“Do you yield, Loki?” Thor is asking, raising Mjölnir threateningly over his head.

Loki starts to snarl defiantly, but then spots Jane. For a moment, pure rage twists his face, but then he calms himself with a visible effort. “Stay your lightning, brother, lest you injure the object of our mutual affections.”

Jane moves forward with angry strides. “’Object’?! You’re fucking _kidding_ me, right? I am not some piece of property for you two cavemen to knock each other’s teeth out over.”

There’s astonishment on both their faces, and Jane realizes that not only does she need to learn what the parts of Loki’s armour are called, but also how Asgardian society treats their women. Seeing Sif fight the Destroyer had led Jane to believe that Asgard was fairly liberal-minded about women if it allowed them to be warriors, but she’s now starting to think that Sif is perhaps an anomaly.

“Jane-“ Thor starts.

“No!” she shouts, totally out of patience, “You’re both being _idiots_ , and I’ve had enough. Fighting is not how _civilized_ people settle things, at least not on planet Earth.”

“You could have fool-“ Loki starts to remark acidly.

Jane cuts him off with a glare. “You, shut _up_! And you are going to stay right there. I am going to have a private conversation with your brother. Come on, Thor.” 

“Be warned, Thor. If you take her from me,” Loki scowls, “it will be the last act-“

“Loki, _shut up_ , for the love of Pete!” Jane yells at the top of her lungs, and Loki finally does shut up, glowering and sour-faced. Well, she’ll get to him in a moment.

She stalks away from the trailer, stiff with rage. She doesn’t look behind her, as if she expects Thor to follow her without argument (and given how angry she feels right now, he’d _better_ fucking follow her!). Still, part of her can’t believe she just told two gods – Loki, in particular! – off, but most of her just hopes this can be straightened out without someone killing someone else.

Slow footsteps sound behind her, but Jane keeps moving until she feels they have enough privacy. Too late, it occurs to her that Loki can probably eavesdrop easily enough if he wants to, but then she decides she doesn’t really care. She’s not planning on saying anything she wouldn’t be comfortable with him hearing; this is mainly to keep them from setting each other off again.

She turns to face Thor at last, taking a deep breath, fighting for her own internal calm. Again, she notices the daggers sticking out of him. “Don’t those _hurt_?”

Thor glances at them, then pulls them out, barely wincing, and tosses them away.

Jane takes another deep breath. “Look, Thor, I do appreciate that you came to rescue me when you thought I was in danger from Loki. And that you asked Coulson to make sure I was safe – Erik told me Coulson left a note, addressed to me personally, about that.” Jane isn’t sure why he’d done it – maybe to try to make up for ‘borrowing’ her work back when Thor first came to Earth? - but she’ll never know for sure. “I even understand why you had to put the safety of everyone else before everything, even contacting me.”

Thor looks like he’s going to say something, but Jane holds up her hand. She understands why he did it, why he acted like that. She has enough data to figure the problem out….sadly, he probably won’t like the solution.

“But it’s not enough for me, I’m sorry,” she continues. “I waited, and I waited, and then you were here but only for something else, and then you were gone again. I didn’t have any clue if you even still felt anything for me-“

“The Son of Coul told you nothing else?” Thor’s eyebrows rise.

“His message said only that you wanted me to be protected, but that was _all_. How was I to know you still _loved_ me? For all I knew at the time, maybe you just wanted to protect the one mortal who could build a  Rainbow Bridge on Earth.” 

Thor turns away from her, muttering darkly. “Perhaps it is good, then, that the Son of Coul is dead. Else I would have to-”

“Can you focus, _please_?” Jane snaps. “This is hard enough as it is. Look, I am trying to tell you that I understand, and that I forgive you…but that it’s too late for us.”

Thor shakes his head, but Jane pushes on before she feels any worse than she already does. “You were gone, and I was all alone…and then Loki was here. I’ll admit, he wasn’t…. _kind_ to me at first,” - _Yeah, understatement of the century-_ “but after awhile, we, I don’t know, we warmed to each other, I guess. And now we’re, um, _involved_. I can’t go back.”

Thor moves to stand in front of her, putting gentle hands on her shoulders. “Can you not see, Jane, how Loki is manipulating you? I know him well, much better than you, in the brief time you have known him. Can you truly believe that he is more trustworthy than I? I have never known Loki to cleave to any one woman longer than-“

“From what I’ve read in the mythology, you’re _both_ players. So I wouldn’t exactly call that a disadvantage that’s limited only to him,” Jane points out.

Thor shakes his head again, obviously deciding to try another tack. “Do you not think that he might be using you as part of a larger plan to attack Midgard again?”  

Jane closes her eyes and sighs. How can she explain to Thor, without getting too far into the realm of TMI? The last thing she wants to do is try to explain what a good dominant Loki has been…in his own way. “If he was trying to manipulate me, I think he’d have been much more accommodating than he has. He’s…not an easy person, and we’ve had some difficult moments, but overall he’s been good to me.” She pulls away from Thor, staring out across the desert.

“That’s also how I know he’s not controlling my mind,” she adds. “I’ve stood up to him plenty, which I doubt would have happened, or he would allow, if I was being controlled. Besides, Erik told me what it was like. That it was like watching himself from a distance, seeing himself do and say things as if it was someone else doing it all….that’s not how I feel, not at all.”

“He won’t tell me exactly what he’s dealing with,” she explains further, after a long hesitant pause, “but he’s clearly a man in tremendous pain. And, rightly or wrongly, I think he feels very alone. He _needs_ me. And…I think I need him.” She hadn’t planned on saying all this, and she wonders again if Loki could be hearing everything. And if so, how he will react.

Thor is silent, and Jane finds her monologue continuing: “And I don’t really know why he would want to _use_ me. Without the Tesseract, I have no power source strong enough to fuel an Einstein-Rosen bridge. My knowledge is effectively useless. So unless he’s planning on stealing it from Asgard at some point in the near future, he’s wasting a lot of time and effort on me, and all for nothing.” She’s never really thought about it before, but the moment she puts it into words, it has the ring of truth. In the grand scheme of things, who is she? Nobody very important. Or at least, not important to anybody planning to take over anything. As far as she knows.

“I can appreciate that you want to protect me,” she finishes, going back to Thor and putting her hand on his arm. “But I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions.” _Even if they’re bad ones._ “I don’t think I can be in a relationship with someone who is going to put everything and everyone else before me all the time. That’s who you are, who you _have_ to be, and there’s nothing _wrong_ with it, not at all, but it’s just not something that I can see myself wanting to deal with. And maybe Loki isn’t the right person for me, either. Maybe you’re right about Loki, and this is all some game to him, and ultimately I won’t be that important to him, either….but I don’t think so. “ It’s a weak ending, but Jane has finally run out of things to say. 

Thor is a wonderful man (god), but her time as his love interest had been more lonely than satisfying. Compare that to her current ‘arrangement’ with Loki, and things are working out much better for her. At least for right now.

Thor meets her eyes, a very serious expression on his face. “Do you love him, Jane?”

She turns away from Thor to stare out across the desert again. Somehow, it keeps coming back to this, doesn’t it? 

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “I wonder sometimes if that is even where this is going. You’re totally right, there’s lots about him that I don’t know, and he doesn’t seem all that comfortable discussing personal stuff with me.” _Yet another understatement of the century. Maybe of the damned_ millennium.

She pauses to think, Thor waiting silent and patient behind her.

Finally, she turns back to him. “If he wanted more, if he wanted this thing between him and I to become something _serious_ , I would definitely be open to that. That’s really all I can say.” From the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees a strange ripple in the air, but when she turns to glance that way, there’s nothing. _Maybe- probably- Loki_ is _listening in._ Jane’s not sure how she feels about that. _Will he still be there when I go back? This is the guy who nearly had a heart attack when I hugged him. I’m sure any suggestion of a serious relationship, and he’ll teleport out of here so fast, the sonic boom will flatten Isabella’s diner._

Thor nods slowly, his eyes sad. “Then I thank you, Jane Foster, for trying to explain it to me as best you can. And I  wish you luck with my wayward brother.” Jane searches for sarcasm in his voice, but there is none. He seems sincere, and Jane feels a sharp pang in her heart as he comes towards her, raising her hand gently to his lips and kissing it. He’s a good man, and she  wishes things were different, but that ship has sailed.

“If you decide, in the end, that you would like to give us another try, if I am myself still looking for Asgard’s queen…” He lets the sentence trail off, giving her a warm smile tinged with sadness.

_ Asgard. _ Abruptly, an unwelcome thought occurs to Jane. “You have to take him back to Asgard, don’t you? Now that you’ve found him.” Maybe she’s about to be abandoned by Loki after all. Just not by his choice.

Thor frowns and looks down at Jane’s hand, still held lightly within his. He seems to be thinking very hard. “Let me speak with Loki, privately. Perhaps some other arrangement is possible.”

They make their way back to Loki, Jane lagging a little behind, almost afraid of what they might find. But he seems to be in the exact same position as he was before, except for his helmet lying discarded on the ground. Jane’s not sure she trusts that, however. He probably was listening in. Mind you, if he was, and he’s still here, isn’t that a good sign?

_ Unless he’s too injured to make his escape, _ the traitorous part of her mind offers.

He glowers up at both of them. “Well?” he asks bitterly. “Should I start thinking now about an appropriate nuptial gift for Thor and Jane Odinson?”

Jane rolls her eyes, her hesitance immediately turning into irritation. “I chose _you_ , you moron. Don’t make me regret it.” The quickly-buried flash of surprise on his face shocks her, though she manages not to show it. Clearly, Loki did not expect Thor to be the loser in this scenario.

Or, he heard everything she just said to Thor, and he’s just a really good actor. _Really_ good.

“Come, brother, we must have words,” Thor is saying, moving past her and reaching down to help Loki to his feet. “Will you excuse us, Jane?”

She doesn’t want to leave them alone, but she decides Thor might be onto something; having all three of them in the same conversation seems to be a flashpoint for Loki. Besides, maybe she can take a page from Loki’s book.

So she only nods in agreement, and walks back around the trailer. She retrieves her notes from under the rock, unlocks the door and walks in, then heads straight for the window where the air-conditioning unit is. Usually she curses how easily noise gets into the trailer from here – it’s one of the reasons she lives on the edge of town – but now it will finally be useful!

“Congratulations, brother,” Thor is saying, his voice quiet. “Jane is a fine woman.”

“I suppose this is where you tell me that if I  break her heart, that you will see to it that I pay dearly?” Loki remarks sarcastically.

Momentary silence, and Jane can picture Thor shaking his head. “I would think that if you were to lose her, that would be payment enough.” Jane feels bad for Thor all over again, but not very much. Not really. 

“Is that not what is about to occur, _brother_? Take me back to Asgard, and you force Jane to be alone again. Is that what you are hoping for? Keep us apart, and she will decide to give you yet another chance?” Loki laughs bitterly.

“No, Loki. I would prefer not to bring pain to her.” There’s a long pause. “Perhaps you could just return for a brief time, attempt to reconcile with Father? If there would be peace between you, I have no doubt that he would allow you to return to spend time here with Jane. Or perhaps even allow her to come to Asgard.”

“Asgard is no longer my home,” Loki rasps indignantly.

“There are those back home who _love_ you, Loki-“ Thor tries.

“Oh _really_?” Loki retorts. “Who does, exactly? Our _dear_ friends, who look down their noses at my magic? I made Sleipnir for Fath- _Odin,_ as a gift, and they start that vicious rumour that I made the horse by turning into a mare and mating with a stallion? I was the laughing stock of Asgard for a score of fortnights after. Even the humans picked up the tale!” Another bitter laugh. “Yes, that is _love_.”

“Loki-“

But Loki isn’t done. “Our sainted mother, who knew all along what I really am. But she never told me. So either she agreed with Father, and his plans for me, or she didn’t, but she didn’t love me enough to tell me the truth!”

_ ‘Really am’? _ Jane wonders. What the hell does that mean?

“And the All-Father…where do I begin? He steals me from my true home, hides my origins from me, raises me to think I am of Asgard when I am not, that I am a possible heir to the throne, when I am _not_ ….and when his ruse is finally discovered, rather than face me, talk to me, he falls into the Odin-Sleep?” Another laugh that is utterly empty of humour. “Convenient, is it not?”

“Loki,” Thor insists, “You know that Odin is not in control of the Sleep-“

“A lie,” Loki hisses. “He was in enough control of it to put it off all those years. Then, he’s faced with the undoing of all his plans, and it claims him at that precise moment? During my moment of need? The act of a true _coward_!”

“Please, Loki, do not speak of our father that way-“

“YOUR FATHER!” Loki all but screams, and Jane clenches her fists, wondering if she’ll need to go out there again and break up yet another pitched battle.

But deafening silence follows, and after a long, tense moment, Jane wonders if Loki has teleported himself (or perhaps both him and Thor) away. 

“I do not contest that Odin has made mistakes. That Frigga has made mistakes. That _I_ have made mistakes,” Thor says at last, quietly.

“Oh, so you admit to that? How generous of you. Do you even know what those mistakes _are_ , my brother?” Loki asks maliciously. 

“I would guess that my most recent error in judgment was humiliating you in front of the mortals, by trapping you under Mjölnir.”

Loki scoffs. “And I am supposed to forgive _all_ , just because you are able to recognize one? One that I just reminded you of mere moments ago, no less?”

“We are brothers. It is inevitable that we will fight. That we will do things to cause each other embarrassment, either by accident or out of mischief. Have you forgotten all the ways you have caused _me_ pain over the long years, my brother? But I still love you,” Thor pleads. “As do Frigga and Odin. Their mistakes do not negate the fact that they love you. They tried to do what they felt was best for you. Can you not at least credit them for that?”

“No, I cannot,” Loki growls. 

Thor sighs. “This is gaining us nothing.”

“So now you force me home?”

“No, my brother,” Thor answers.

“No? _What_ , then?”

“I will leave you free. However, I have conditions. One, you will disperse the spell that keeps you hidden from Heimdall. Two, you may not leave Midgard. Three, you will do nothing at all to harm a mortal. _Any_ mortal. If Heimdall sees you doing anything to endanger a _single_ mortal, Jane or otherwise, then I shall return. And nothing Jane says will stay my rage.”

There’s another long pause. “I cannot agree to all. My cloaking spell must remain. Not because I  wish to hide from Heimdall – at least, not any more. But there are others whom I would prefer to not know I am here.”

“Your former allies?” Thor asks.

“If you wish to call them so. On that basis, I also cannot agree to stay on Midgard. If my ‘allies’ come for me, I will do all I can to escape. One experience of their…. _hospitality_ , was enough for a millennium.”

“But as for harming the mortals,” there’s a pause, and Jane can picture Loki shrugging, “So long as they leave me in peace, so shall I leave them. And if they attack me first, I will promise to attempt to evade them only, rather than battling them. Does that meet with your approval, _brother_?”

Another pause, and then Thor answers: “Very well. I will trust you then, brother. But as Jane said to you earlier, ‘Do not make me regret it’.”

Loki scoffs. “And how will you explain to the All-Father why you let me go?”

“That is my affair,” Thor says curtly. “Do not trouble yourself.”

“Very well,” Loki says.

There’s a rustle, and Jane imagines Thor turning to leave.

“A moment more,” Loki says. “There is one more urgent matter to be dealt with.” Jane tenses, wondering if Loki is preparing to attack again, while Thor’s guard seems down.

“What?” Thor asks, sounding as wary as Jane feels.

“You cannot tell your Avenger friends, tell SHIELD, that I am here on Midgard.”

“And why is that?”

“Because they _will_ want to imprison me. I am not sure, in truth, why you are so eager to leave me free, but surely you can see that the mortals will not share your current feelings. For a similar reason, they also can never find out that Jane is associated with me.”

“Surely they would not-“

“Oh, but they _would_. Remember when you first arrived on Midgard, and they took all of Jane’s work from her? Surely they would do so again, if they discovered she is sharing my bed. They would do that, and worse.”

_ ‘Sharing his bed’, might be a stretch, _ she thinks – they haven’t actually slept in a bed together yet, not even _once_ \- but the rest she can hardly argue with.  Mainly because _she_ had said as much to him.

“She is innocent. They have no reason to harm her-”

“Of course she is, but somehow I doubt they would care. They would brand her a traitor, imprison her, take her life’s meaning – her work – from her. You and the All-Father did not believe me when I explained all that made me attack Earth, why should they? They who suffered directly at my hands.”

Is that remorse she’s hearing? Jane wishes she could see Loki’s face. And it’s so strange, to hear the things she once said to Loki, now coming out of his mouth. Does he really care for her that much, or is it only that he prefers to keep others out of his business?

Or maybe, he just somehow knows she is listening.

“Like you, I would prefer that she does not suffer. So I must ask you, brother, to keep my association with her a secret. Do it not for me, but for _her_ ,” Loki insists. 

There’s another long, nerve-wracking pause. “Very well,” Thor says in the end, and Jane slowly lets out the breath that she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “Fare thee well, Loki.”

There’s a final pause, and Jane imagines Loki deciding what to say, whether he dares to add a parting shot. “I will wish you luck with Odin,” he finally says, and then there’s nothing but the sound of footsteps in the sand. One set heads off away from the trailer, deep into the desert. The other set, moving slowly, haltingly, comes around to the front of the trailer. 

_ Remember, you’re not supposed to have heard all that _ , she coaches herself. She puts a worried expression on her face, and some distance between her and the window she was listening at.

The door is pushed open, Loki biting off a groan as he climbs slowly into the trailer, carrying his helmet. 

He looks like five miles of bad road, and Jane’s worried expression becomes genuine. He seems about two shades paler than usual, the bruises and cuts on his face a stark contrast. And there’s no missing how he’s favouring the ribs on his left side. He’s a god and all, but how badly injured is he?

She rushes over to him, but then stops a foot or so away, not sure how to help him. This is quite a bit outside her experience. “Are you OK?” 

“Do I look ‘ _OK’_?” he rasps sarcastically. Weaving as if he’s drunk, he makes his way over to her bed and sits on it. It creaks alarmingly, and Jane expects it to crumple under his weight at any time. She twists her hands together helplessly, watching him. 

This is much more awkward than she anticipated.

He drops the helmet on her floor with a bang, and Jane can see there’s a large dent in it. Could he have a concussion on top of everything else, and if so, does she dare take him somewhere for medical care?

“No, you don’t….do we, I mean, should we go to a hospital?”

“Midgardian healing?” He snorts sardonically. “I am a god.”

“I thought you couldn’t heal,” Jane says hesitantly. He’s angry, and she’s not sure what to do about that. Or if his anger is even directed at her or not.

“I can’t heal _others_. I can heal myself, though it takes much effort, and will drain me of power.”

“Oh,” Jane says. He’s staring at the floor, not looking at her. It’s like being in the room with a stranger. 

Steeling herself, she tries something else, going over to him and kneeling down in front of him, grasping one of his dirty, bruised-knuckled hands gently in both of hers. “I’m so glad to see you,” she says softly. “I was so sure that Thor was going to drag you back to Asgard. That I’d never see you again.”

Loki still doesn’t look at her, instead his gaze seems locked now on her hand around his. He shakes his head slowly. “No, he decided that he would not. Though admittedly I am not sure _why_.” 

There’s another long, uncomfortable silence, and Jane wracks her brain trying to figure out why there’s this wall between them now. Because he overheard something from her that he didn’t like? Because he thinks she overheard something from him that he didn’t want her to?

Or maybe he doesn’t want her any more. Jane feels a sudden chill at the thought.

_ If he wants to end things between us then let him grow some balls and fucking  _ say _so,_ she decides after another frozen moment between them. She’s growing tired of waiting for him to take the initiative, so she lets go of his hand and gets to her feet. At least she can try to clean his wounds. 

As she’s fumbling through the tiny medicine chest in her tiny bathroom, another idea occurs to her. Probably a bad one, given how banged up he is, but if he does want to end their ‘arrangement’, it will probably force him to reveal that fact. Nothing is worse than sitting in this awkward silence, wondering if the other shoe is about to drop at any second.

She goes back into the kitchen, putting her duffle bag on the table and tossing her bandages, ointment, and other supplies into it. She thinks she feels Loki’s eyes on her the whole time, watching her every move. 

She checks to make sure there’s a condom or two in the bag. Yes, there at the bottom.

Another thought pops into her head, and she pauses, considering it. On the one hand, he might go for it, in his present state. On the other, it might scare him off…well, she’s willing to take that chance. If he bolts now, after all they’ve been through together already, well, then she has her answer, doesn’t she?

She pulls the scarf from her neck – it’s not like she needs it to hide the bite-mark any longer, thanks to Loki’s magic - and it takes a little searching to find another usable scarf. Of course, Jane is sure both items are going to be too weak to really contain _him_ , but it’s more the principle of the thing.

Jane tosses both scarves into her bag, zips it shut, and turns to find Loki is indeed watching her, looking confused. “Do you have enough strength left to teleport us to a place where you can be more comfortable?” she asks, gesturing towards her sagging bed.

He raises an eyebrow, looking haughty. “I repeat once more, I am a _god_.”

Jane just shakes her head and smiles to herself as she grabs the bag off the kitchen table, and comes over to take one of his hands. “Then let’s go, my _god_ ,” she teases gently.

He looks like he’s about to say something else sniping, but then he shakes his head slightly and closes his eyes. Jane watches his face, the way his jaw tightens as if he is concentrating hard, his eyes moving rapidly behind his closed lids. 

There’s a sudden _shift_ , a flash of blinding whiteness, and Jane probably would’ve fallen on her ass if not for his hand firmly wrapped around hers. She steadies herself, then looks around to see that they’re both standing in yet another nondescript hotel room. _Yeah, I’m definitely getting an apartment. This is getting really really old._

“OK, let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, putting on her best businesslike tone.

“I said that I do not need your help,” he reminds her arrogantly.

His current attitude is _also_ getting really old. Jane puts her hands on her hips, glaring up at him in challenge. “You know what? I’ve had enough of this. As of now, _I_ am in charge.” 

His expression darkens and he returns her glare-for-glare. “You do not command _me_.”

“Today I do,” she snaps right back. “That is, if you want to see any bedroom action with me for the next week. Maybe the next _month_.”

His brow furrows angrily, but Jane continues right on, before he can whip out a stinging retort: “And you’re damned lucky I’m even considering sleeping with you _at all_ ,  given that whole ‘two lips’ thing you said to Thor about me.” 

“Damn.” Loki drops his eyes. At least he has the grace to look ashamed. “That was not meant for your ears.”

“I’ll bet,” Jane says. Actually, it’s kind of weird; the more she thinks about that line, the more she realizes that yes, it had been obscene…but also oddly arousing. _Yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell._ “Are you fucking suicidal, or something, taunting Thor like that?” 

Loki finally smiles at her, and Jane relaxes a bit, even though his grin is rather sly. “It is strategy, my Jane. An angry Thor is much more likely to miss with Mjölnir. And his fist.”

Jane only smiles and shakes her head, then pushes gently on Loki’s chest, trying to move him backwards towards the foot of the bed. For a long moment he resists, but she leans into it, not letting up, and he gives in and lets her guide him back.

“I’m surprised you even let him close enough to hit you,” Jane says.

Loki shrugs as he backs up, then sits abruptly as his legs make contact with the bed. He groans, then shakes his head. “No choice. I am a fair hand with a throwing dagger, but they do relatively little damage through his armour.” He grins again. “Besides, I _wanted_ to get close enough to be able to strike him across the face.”

Jane rolls her eyes. “ _Men_.”

“ _Gods_ ,” he corrects her, the familiar smirk finally reappearing.

“Like there’s a difference? Both are way too full of themselves,” Jane scoffs back. She ignores his offended look, taking his left wrist and turning it over, examining how his armour is fastened in place. “We need to get all this armour out of the way.”

Loki is smirking again. “If you wish to play squire, Lady, I will not say no.”

“Yeah, well, consider it a lesson. I want to know what all these armour pieces are called anyway. No time like the present.”

This earns her another furrowed brow, but he doesn’t say anything snarky, so she lets it go. First off go the wrist coverings (“bracers”), the belt and metal bits over his shoulder (“pauldron”), his boots and their stiff leather armour covering (“greaves”). Next Jane tackles his outer coat (“surcoat”) and the underlying leather coat (“tunic”) and attached “breastplate” (she guesses correctly on that one). She then helps him unlace and take off his shirt, then decides to stop there for the moment, washing the dust and dirt from his armour off her hands. 

She winces at the sight of the huge black bruise on his left side. She touches him, gently, just above the top edge of the injury. “I’m guessing Mjölnir did that?”

“You guess correctly,” Loki counters. 

“Are your ribs broken?”

“Cracked, no doubt. But it is easily dealt with, I told you-“

“Yeah, yeah, big tough god doesn’t need help from us mere mortals,” Jane shoots back, but there’s no real heat in it. Looking at the damage reminds her what caused it – _he fought to keep_ me. Her inner militant feminist hates it, but she’s realizing that another part of her likes it just fine. Someone had fought for _her;_ Jane Foster, World’s Sexiest Astrophysicist…except she _isn’t_. And yet, Loki and Thor had fought to win her hand. It’s actually kind of flattering, in a bizarre way. 

She can’t do much about his ribs, so she focuses instead on cleaning the dust and blood off his hands, then carefully cleans the cuts on his face. There’s a nasty one across the bridge of his nose, and another bisecting his left eyebrow. She carefully avoids the dark purple bruise blooming across the left side of his jaw and chin.

She’s sitting in his lap to accomplish her work, and through it all, Jane is aware of his arm curled around her, his fingers brushing almost absently up and down her side. His eyes never leave her face.

When she’s done all she can, it’s time for Part Two of her plan. She gets up off his lap. “Now, move up and lie down on the bed, on your back,” she says as firmly as she can, as if she expects no argument about it.

He raises the undamaged eyebrow at her again, smirking, and doesn’t move. She crosses her arms across her chest and stares at him defiantly, fully aware that even in his injured state, he’s probably still strong enough to take her down, take what he wants from her (assuming he wants _anything_ right now). But she’s not going to back down.

After an eternity, he finally obeys, settling himself back on the bed with a groan.  Before she changes her mind, Jane pulls off her shoes, grabs her scarves from the duffle bag, and kneels on the bed, straddling his hips. He grins lasciviously up at her. “To the loser go the spoils, apparently?” he asks.

Jane rolls her eyes. “Such a sweet-talker,” she chides him. She takes hold of his right wrist, wrapping the scarf around it. She makes sure it isn’t too tight, then knots the scarf. She pushes at his arm – he resists, just enough to tease that he knows just how thin her illusion of control is – until his hand is resting on the bed next to the pillow, and she wraps the free end of the scarf around the post of the headboard, taking up the slack, and knots it there.

Before she reaches for his free hand, she hesitates. _Can_ he raise his arm up, with probably-cracked ribs? She’s no medical doctor, but it seems unlikely to her.

Maybe this _is_ a bad idea. 

“Wait,” he says. He closes his eyes, swallowing convulsively. Several long moments pass, during which he turns even paler, but before Jane’s eyes, the bruise on his side gradually lightens in colour. By the time Loki opens his eyes again, the bruising has turned more yellow than purple. “There. That is all I can do for the moment, but it should suffice.” Still, he winces a little as he holds his wrist out to her, waiting with amusement until Jane shakes herself out of staring at the miracle of his side.

She binds his left arm the same way, then sits back, still straddling his lean hips, studying her work. She is under no illusions – no pun intended – that he could easily break free if he wants to, but she’s going to push forward with this as if he can’t. 

Jane kneels carefully on the bed next to his undamaged side, then starts to run her hands down along his slender body using the lightest of touches. She starts with his long hands, tracing aimless patterns over the palms with her fingertips, then down along the warm, sinewy muscles of his arms. They twitch and shift under her touch, just slightly.

She gives his taut shoulders a gentle massage, pressing lightly into the muscle, then runs her fingers up the sides of his neck and over his jaw, avoiding the bruised area. His eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes long and dark against pale skin, as her fingertips follow the sharp angles of his face. She slips a hand behind his head, twisting long black strands through her fingers, and then leans down to kiss him.

His lips open immediately under hers, and she takes the invitation, plunging her tongue into his mouth, tightening her grip on his hair….it seems, then, that everything is OK between them. At least as far as she can tell from this passionate kiss.

They finally pull apart to breathe, and Jane takes up where she left off, this time using her mouth instead of her hands. She kisses her way down his throat, pausing to lick a wet line across his Adam’s apple, then down his chest, with another pause to lap teasingly at each flat disc of nipple. Still avoiding the bruises, she shifts down further, kissing and licking her way down his sternum and belly, tasting the salt of his skin, then following the sparse trail of black curls. He smells strongly of leather and musk, and Jane finds herself squeezing her thighs together. Part of her is stunned that he’s even still here with her, that Thor hadn’t taken him away. Or that Loki hadn’t just made a break for it.

She lets her tongue trace slowly along the line of skin just above the waistband of his leather pants, as her hand lightly squeezes the obvious bulge of his arousal. “Wanton vixen,” he hisses, pushing his hips up. 

“Impatient, O God of Mischief? I’m just trying to go slowly and carefully….since you’re injured and all,” she teases, smirking at his _look_. She reaches for the lacing of his pants, undoing it as slowly as she can, taking the time to kiss and lick at every tiny bit of skin that is revealed after each lacing is pulled free.

“Keep teasing me, woman, and I will show you just how un-injured I am. Forcibly,” he says in a rough purr that makes the heat pool in her stomach. She glances up, and his hands are curled into shaking fists around the scarves.

“Wouldn’t you rather lie there and let me…pleasure you?” she points out. “Consider it a vacation, Loki.” Still, she takes pity on him, and starts tugging the tight leather pants off his hips, then pulling them down his legs. No underwear, of course (would he be a boxer or a brief man, if he were human, she wonders), and his length springs free almost comically.

But Jane ignores both it and his affronted hiss, pulling his pants the rest of the way off, kissing and licking her way down as she goes, alternating between legs. She finally gets the pants all the way off, tossing them to the floor.

She looks up and Loki is watching her closely, a flush across his pale face. He licks his lips slowly, eyes narrowing dangerously at her. “Do I not get to _see_ what I have won?” He asks, looking pointedly at her still-fully-dressed figure.

Jane pretends to think about it, putting her hands on her hips. “Perhaps I should make _you_ beg.” She points out. 

He laughs loud and openly at that. “Taking your revenge, Jane Foster? Now, why does that leave me so unconcerned?” His eyes gleam at her, and he cocks his head, tugging a little at his bonds. Then he must decide to play along, because his voice drops back into a low, rough purr. “Please, my lady, remove your clothing. I wish to sample _those_ sweet lips again.”

It’s not quite what she was aiming for, he’s not exactly begging the way he makes _her_ beg, but hey, it’s not like he has a bad idea. She gets off the bed and starts taking off her shirt, but slowly, as teasingly as she can. She goes button by button, swaying her hips slowly to a beat she imagines in her head, watching his cock twitch as she finally pulls the shirt off and tosses it away.

“What is that?” he asks, eyeing her bra. Jane realizes he’s never encountered it before. Up until now, he’s always come to her when she was already wearing pajamas, or they’ve had sex in a situation where there just hasn’t been time to undress completely. 

“A way to make you wait,” she decides, leaving it on and popping the button on her jeans instead, ignoring his overdramatic, long-suffering sigh. Beyond that, he doesn’t complain, watching with a slowly growing smirk as she shimmies out of her jeans. It’s hard to make peeling athletic socks off sexy, but Loki’s gaze is just as intent as she performs that action.

She leaves the panties on too, pretending indifference to his disappointed expression, then she climbs back onto the bed, crawling between his legs. 

“Don’t worry, Loki. I’ll entertain you while you wait,” she says with her own smirk. And then she licks a wet line up along the underside of his shaft, flicking her tongue across the tip of him as she finishes the stroke, and Loki groans in a way Jane finds very encouraging.

She teases him quite awhile that way, dragging her tongue in wet lines all along the length of him, caressing his balls with the tips of her nails. The muscles in his thighs flex and tighten, his breathing getting faster and the sweat beading on his skin, his heavy shaft seeming to swell further under her lips. His gaze is positively feral as he watches her every move.

At one point, after his shaft is glistening, she stops and blows lightly on it, smiling at the way he jerks in response. _Well, I guess they don’t call it a_ blow _job for nothing._ She does it a few more times, between teasing him in other ways, just to watch him jerk and bite his lip in response. _Tease_ , his eyes accuse her. _And you love it,_ she retorts silently right back.

Without giving him any warning, she wraps her hand around the base of him and takes him deep into her mouth. He yelps in a way that Jane finds utterly hilarious, and she can’t help giggling around him. “Oh yes, you are a _tease_ ,” he hisses out loud this time, as threateningly as he can manage between gasps. “And you had best be careful, _tease_ , as I will no doubt empty myself into your sinful mouth in short order if you continue on this path.”

That’s not what she wants, so she releases him, giving his balls one last gentle squeeze, and then she crawls over him, up to his head. It’s a delicate operation, but she manages to slide her feet and legs under his bound arms, positioning herself until she’s kneeling with her ‘sweet lips’ hovering inches above his face.

This earns her yet another eyebrow raise. “I do believe there is an impediment,” he points out, eyeing her panties. 

“ _Convince_ me, and I might move it out of the way,” she informs him. Let him work for it a bit. He needs a little reminder that she’s the one in control.

He laughs softly, quickly catching on to her little game. “As my lady commands,” he says with a mocking edge to his voice, but he licks his lips and cranes his neck, trying to reach her.

She takes pity on him – he _is_ injured, after all – and lowers herself down until he can touch her. He buries his nose in the fabric and inhales noisily, and Jane blushes despite herself. “Sweet indeed,” he purrs lustfully against her, ending this pronouncement with a broad stroke of his tongue along the crotch of her panties. 

It doesn’t take long for the fabric to be soaked through, and even through the layer of cloth he’s able to target her clit with teeth and tongue, working it with a skill that makes her head spin, and she has to clutch the headboard to keep herself balanced above him in just the right way.  

It doesn’t take long for her to want more, and he laughs softly in victory when she reaches down to push the panties out of the way so she can feel his touch _right_ on her most sensitive spots. 

He slides his tongue right into her instantly, Jane groaning loudly in response, then he pulls it out and up, sweeping along and over her aching clit. Sharp bolts of sensation seem to travel up her body, swirling in her belly and making her nipples tingle. 

Swift flicks of his tongue against that spot soon have her moaning and pressing herself down on his face, tangling a hand in his hair to keep him right _there_ – though she tries not to press down on him it too hard. He chuckles against her, and she can almost forgive him for what he said to Thor, since he so obviously enjoys this so much.

When he starts using his teeth on her, even though he’s being careful, it jolts her at first. He nips at her outer lips, then pulls her inner lips into his mouth one at a time and grazes them with said teeth. She’s almost getting used to the feeling, when he startles her by tilting his head up suddenly, his chin pressing hard the length of her sex as he does so. “If you free my hands,” he says, his gaze calculating, “I promise I shall put them to good use.”

Jane shakes her head, sweeping her sweaty hair out of her face. “Not a chance,” she insists. She’s enjoying their present arrangement quite a lot, thanks muchly. Knowing him, he’d just use his freedom to try to take control of her.

He pouts, then gets a lewd gleam in his eye. “Very well, then _you_ must assist me,” he suggests. “Hold yourself open for me, Jane,” he says, as commandingly as he usually does. When she doesn’t move, he seems to remember their current game. “Please,” he adds, and there does seem to be a pleading note in his voice. 

It’s not a difficult decision for Jane. Bracing her knees, she does as he asks, reaching down and spreading her folds wide for him, though it makes her blush all over again. Sometimes, she thinks he does these things _just_ to make her blus-

He nips at her exposed clit, and she gasps and almost jerks away, her  skin prickling into goosebumps, her toes curling, but he’s quick to soothe away the ache with his tongue. Just as she’s starting to relax, though, he scrapes his teeth lightly across the quivering node, and then he begins a relentless pattern of almost-pain/ pleasure, using his teeth and tongue on her,  never stopping until a “Please,” spills out of her. 

“As you  wish,” he responds, sucking her clit hard into his mouth and lapping at it until Jane can’t take it anymore, and shuddering, she comes in a flood, sensations of hot and cold pouring down over her in alternating waves. She tumbles off to the side, boneless and limp, Loki licking her juices off his lips and watching her smugly _. Even bound and injured, he’s no slouch, and clearly he knows it._

She’s still wearing her bra, and Loki is eyeing it, so when she’s recovered enough she undoes it and tosses it aside, pressing her breasts against his face. As usual, he’s quick to catch on, suckling on each nipple eagerly, but before long Jane wants to feel him inside her, so she gets off the bed and moves on shaky legs to her duffle to retrieve a condom.

Loki smirks in anticipation as she puts it on him, but Jane smirks right back, one last trick up her sleeve. She’s been able to observe the ‘master’ (no pun intended) at teasing lately. And nobody’s ever accused her of being a slow learner.

She straddles his hips again, scooping his shaft up in one hand…and she rubs the head in slow circles against her clit a few times, before slowly moving her ‘toy’ up and down along the length of her soaked core, never letting him inside her. Loki’s breathing goes ragged, his eyes nearly savage with need.

She releases him, letting his shaft rest on his belly, and she keeps going, sliding herself up and down along the underside of his length, enjoying the sensation of her clit sliding against him. She closes her eyes and lets her head roll back on her neck, pretending to ignore him entirely as she uses him as her plaything. 

He finally curses and lets out a loud angry growl, and the headboard creaks alarmingly. It reminds Jane that it wouldn’t take much for Loki to turn the tables on her. She meets his eyes, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her face again, and takes yet another page from his tease playbook. “Tell me what you want, Loki.”

His eyes narrow to slits, yet still manage to glitter ferally at her. “I want to feel you, hot and tight around me,” he snarls. “I want to get so deep inside you that you feel me for _days_ afterward. I want to drive myself into you until you come apart in pieces. And I want it _now_ , wench!” He yanks hard at the scarves, the headboard groans again, and Jane’s pretty sure she hears fabric rip. 

_ Better give him what he wants, _ Jane grins to herself, finally taking him inside her. His gaze almost sears her, his breath rasping loudly in his throat and his hips rising sharply to meet her. His hands squeeze into white-knuckled fists as she starts to move quickly, both of them impatient now.

He likely won’t last long, so although it’s not something she normally feels comfortable doing, Jane braces one hand on the bed next to him, and uses the other to massage her own clit. She’s too shy at first to look up and see if he’s even watching her. When she finally does, of course he _is_ watching her, drinking in the sight. It encourages her to stop thinking so much, and just _go_ with it.

He’s bucking up harder and harder into her, meeting her on every downward thrust, and it’s almost hard enough to hurt. Jane increases the pressure on her nub, and there it is, her second climax of the night spilling over her, carrying her away, gasping and moaning and _drowning_. And Loki is right behind her, shoving up into her in one last powerful thrust, shouting incoherently as the rising wave engulfs him as well.

Jane lets herself collapse forward onto the bed, lying against his uninjured side. For a moment, she looks at his bonds, then decides to leave them alone for now. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder and wraps her arm across his heated chest, curling her leg around his. She snuggles into him, pressing damp skin to damp skin, and closes her eyes.

Predictably, he stiffens, but Jane pretends not to notice, instead gently caressing his chest with her hand. After a heartbeat or four, he does relax, and Jane continues to pretend that she hasn’t noticed. 

There’s an unexpected shift in the musculature beneath her cheek, and his arms suddenly fold around her, holding her tight against him. She does smile now, but doesn’t open her eyes.

She’s almost drifting off to sleep – whether he’ll be there when she wakes, she doesn’t know, but she’s going to enjoy cuddling with him as long as she’s conscious - when a thought occurs.

“I’ve been looking for another place to live,” she says.

“Hm?” he answers, sounding pretty sleepy himself. His arms tighten around her almost imperceptibly. 

“Yeah, I’m getting sick of the trailer. And I don’t think you’re really a fan of it, either.”

His only answer is a contemptuous snort.

“I was thinking that maybe you should come with me when I start visiting places,” she goes on, before she loses her nerve. “You know, give me your input? If we can find a place we both like, we won’t have to do this globe-trotting thing every time we want to….play.”

Loki grunts noncommittally, then clears his throat. “It is nothing to me.”

“I don’t plan to drag you to every single place,” Jane clarifies. “I mean, once I’ve narrowed it down to the one or two places that seem to fit my needs best, then you can see them with me and let me know what you think-“

“I _think_ that it is not worth my valuable time,” Loki says, seeming completely disinterested in the topic.

Jane frowns and rolls her eyes, but mainly she’s frustrated with herself for even thinking he would care. “Don’t injure yourself further in your enthusiasm.”

She looks up at his face, but his answering look is bland and blank, like he can’t figure out why she’s making such a big deal out of this. 

_ Just let it go, Jane, _ she coaches herself. _There’s no point ruining your first good cuddle with Loki over this_. “Okay, whatever,” she says, sighing. “Just don’t complain to me afterwards, then, if you don’t like the place I choose.”

“It is entirely irrelevant to me,” he says in the same disinterested way, and Jane just shrugs and nestles herself against his shoulder again.

It leaves her feeling unsettled, but Loki’s arms are still firmly around her, so Jane decides it’s stupid not to take her victories where she can. She closes her eyes and lets herself drift into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wants to play a new ‘game’ with Jane. Cue the evil laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: *kneels before canyr12*  
> Disclaimer: I think Loki owns ME. It’s definitely not the other way around.  
> Author’s Note: As usual, everything in this series is based on the movie!verse.
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> Banner courtesy of the lovely **cincoflex**!
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Jane’s lungs feel as if they are on fire, even as she pushes herself to keep running. She can’t stop, no matter how badly her body is screaming at her that it can’t maintain this pace.  

Branches snag on her sleeves and pant-legs, trying to slow her down. It feels as if the very forest itself is against her, trying to stop her, to imprison her, hold her captive for _him_.

Jane risks a glance back over her shoulder, even though experience tells her she won’t see him unless he wants her to. Sure enough, there’s nothing but the trees, and above them, the dark sky with its unfamiliar star formations.

Of course, she stumbles over a root (predictable) and winds up falling to her knees with a jolt. 

There’s no sound but the uneven dry rasp of her breathing, and the wind whispering through the leaves of the trees. But Jane knows he’s behind her, he’s _coming_ for her, and she knows she can’t stop.

Confirming her fears, dark laughter curls through the rustle of leaves. It’s close, and Jane thinks she sees the silhouette of curving horns moving slowly towards her through the trees. Oh yes, he’s coming after her. He’s probably even closer than she realizes, master of illusion that he is.

Jane clenches her fists and lurches back up onto her feet, running as fast as she can towards freedom. 

She can’t let him catch her.

*~*~*

_ Earlier that evening… _

Jane idly flips through the classified ads one last time, making some notes on a pad as she shovels the last of her supper into her mouth.

Her mind wanders back to two mornings ago. She’d woken up, to her great surprise, still wrapped securely in Loki’s arms. He’d already been awake and watching her with an expression she couldn’t read. But then he’d kissed her and teleported her back to her trailer, alone, before she could even begin to think of what to say to him. 

Still, at least he’d spent the night cuddling with her in bed. It was almost certainly a sign of progress, right?

And yet the events of that day, the fight she’d witnessed between him and Thor, keep replaying themselves in her head. The things Loki had said. The things she’d told Thor. They nag at her on an endless loop, as much as she tries to ignore them and focus on apartment-hunting. 

She’d admitted to Thor that she doesn’t really _know_ Loki. ‘Sharing’ really isn’t his thing. But how long can things between them last if he won’t open up to her? And if (when?) she reaches her limit, will he really talk to her if she pushes him, or will he simply end things between them and walk away?

Not pleasant thoughts. Jane forces herself once more back to apartment-hunting. She’s already visited seven potential places over the last two days, and after a great deal of consideration over the last few hours, she’s pretty much settled on two. Briefly, she considers again asking Loki for his input, but he hadn’t exactly been receptive to that idea.  

She flips to a blank page in her notepad, now making a list of the pros and cons of each place. Apartment A: downtown (such as it is), so it’s close to Isabella’s and the grocery store. And she wouldn’t be living within sight of the lab, which might give her some ‘mental space’. But it would probably be a bit noisier, it would be a relatively long walk to get to work, and does she really want Loki to visit her in a place that’s smack in the middle of the town he nearly destroyed? Assuming anyone will recognize him (if he even lets anyone _see_ him), maybe it’s still tempting fate.

Apartment B pretty much has all the opposite pros and cons, since it’s right on the edge of town near the lab…but it also has smaller rooms in general, though it does have an extra room (which might make for a good ‘office/computer room’), a better freezer-fridge combo, and a larger closet in the single bedroom. And cheaper rent. Jane puts down her pen and rubs her eyes, thinking that she should call both landlords and ask if she can visit the places once again tomorrow. 

Out of the blue, it feels like something is brushing softly against her mind. That’s the only way she can describe it. _Jane,_ says a soft voice in her head, and then Loki is standing next to her chair. 

No horns today – they and her ceiling would definitely agree to disagree – just his usual black and green armour. 

“Loki! I wasn’t sure when I would see you,” Jane says happily, getting up from the table to hug him before her brain tries to stop her. But her delayed fear seems baseless; this time he doesn’t stiffen up. In fact, he loops an arm almost casually around her, as if accepting her hug as his due. _Definitely progress_. “I didn’t know how long it would take you to heal,” she adds.

Loki makes a dismissive gesture with his free arm. “Do not trouble yourself. I am fine.” Indeed, this close to him, Jane can see that there isn’t even the tiniest sign of the bruises and cuts that had marred his face the other day, the result of his battle with Thor.

Letting go of her, he walks around Jane to peer curiously down at the newspaper and her notes. “What are you doing?” he asks. Jane blinks in mild surprise. Since when does Loki care what she does with herself when he’s not around? 

_ Another sign of progress? _

“Well, like I said the other night, I’ve been looking for an apartment. I actually visited a bunch of places recently, and I think I’ve narrowed it down to two that I like. I’ll probably go visit them again tomorrow, before I make a final decision. In fact, I was just about to call the landlords to arrange that.”

“Hm,” Loki says, flipping idly through her notepad. 

“How about you? What have you been up to?” She asks hesitantly, after a long silence. Asking _him_ such questions is new for her, too, but she’s too curious to stop herself. She’s a scientist, after all, and if the bounds of their relationship have shifted, she’s too curious to see where the new limits are. Call it hypothesis testing.

He turns and grins down at her with a naughty glint in his eye, but before Jane’s anxieties can flare up too much, he says: “I have been thinking. I want to play a new game with you, Jane Foster.”

“Um, yes?” Jane shifts from foot to foot, full-on nervous after all. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” she admits. 

“You’ll like this game. I shall see to it.” He pauses, considering. “And I promise we won’t be intruded on, either by persons real or illusory.”

“I don’t know, every time you say ‘game’, it scares me a little,” Jane blurts out before she can think better of it. Maybe that’s not the sort of thing she should be admitting to a God of Mischief-

But Loki nods, a serious expression on his face. “I know. And I wish to remedy that.” He motions to her to resume her previous seat at the kitchen table, and then he moves to sit in the other kitchen chair.

“I wish to….engage in a little play-acting,” he continues. “But first, I wish to discuss it with you, so that we do not have a repeat performance of the dream. Where I pushed you too far for your comfort.”

_ He’s negotiating with me, _ Jane realizes. _How_ interesting. “Go on,” she says as calmly as she can, somehow managing to hide the tremor in her voice.

“First, I shall take us somewhere new. It will be outdoors, and it will likely seem strange to you, but I swear by Yggdrasil that it will be totally private. I shall hide us both from any possible onlookers, though I highly doubt there will be any, as it is a remote place.” 

Sex _outside_ ?  _Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?_ “Um, OK,” Jane says. It’s not something she’s ever done before, but that’s not a sufficient reason to say no.

But Loki isn’t done. “Second, there is the small matter of your punishment, which you have cleverly avoided up until now.” The evil glint returns to his eyes, and he smirks at the way Jane gulps and shifts anxiously in her chair. “However, I assure you that I have no intention whatsoever of injuring you. I cannot promise that I will not _hurt_ you to a small extent, since that is rather the point of the exercise, but I do promise that I would never _harm_ you. Am I being clear?”

Jane nods slowly, though the idea of being spanked still both scares her and excites her, if she’s being honest with herself. “Are you punishing me because I dominated you the other day?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, his smirk becoming a grin. “No. I thought that was…inspired. If you require a reason, then I say you are to be punished for coming back to the battle between myself and Thor, after I sent you away to safety.”

Jane frowns angrily and crosses her arms, but Loki sighs and puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Are you totally unfamiliar with how such games work? Even if you had obeyed my every command instantly and without question, I would come up with a reason – however petty – to ‘discipline’ you.”

“You still haven’t told me what your ‘game’ is,” Jane points out.

Loki’s smirk reappears. “I want to play a game of cruel, lustful master, and helpless yet defiant slave.”

Jane’s hands tighten around her elbows anxiously, though she can’t deny to herself that it does sound rather….intriguing. “Didn’t we kind of do that already, though?” _At the very beginning, when you were stalking me_ , she thinks but doesn’t say.

“I suppose,” he sighs heavily again, and Jane could swear that she sees shame on his face for a split second. “But I highly doubt you found that time _enjoyable_.”

Jane can’t help smiling just a little. “No, not really.” 

He nods. “I intend to remedy _that,_ as well.” He leans forward in the chair, eyes intent on her face, then continues: “But before even that, there is another element I wish to explore with you as well. A game played not infrequently in Asgard, though as yet I have not had the opportunity to play in such a fashion before. It is a game where the man pursues – literally – his partner. I hope you did not get your fill of running the other day while my brother and I were battling.”

Jane’s mouth goes dry as the pieces fall into place. “You mean you’re going to… _hunt_ me down?”

He’s doing his smirking thing again. “In a manner of speaking. And when I capture you, feel free to resist me. In fact, I would prefer that you resist me. I want you to try and stop me from _taking_ you.” He chuckles darkly, and Jane has to shift in her chair again.

It’s definitely interesting. Jane knows that she’s always wanted to be overpowered, to be _taken_. He kind of did that their first night together, but this is a step beyond even that. It’s a potent fantasy he’s spinning for her, and yet, she’s never really wanted anything that, well, _extreme_ to happen to her in anything other than her fantasies; she’s never trusted anyone enough.

The real question is does she trust Loki that much?

Jane considers it for a long moment, aware of him watching her the whole time.

After a moment he adds, as if he is all too aware of her doubts: “Assuming you consent, of course. Perhaps it is too early in our ‘arrangement’, for me to ask such of you? If so, you have only to say.”

That alone makes her feel better; the fact that she has an ‘out’ if she wants one. That he cares enough, it seems, to offer her one. 

But the truth is, it intrigues her, excites her, and she _does_ trust him, as insane as that sounds even to her sometimes. He’s made some mistakes, pushed against some of her boundaries in ways that she wishes he hadn’t, but she does think he never did any of that to hurt her. At least not once she consented to their ‘arrangement’.

“No, it’s not too early,” she replies, getting up and coming around the table to take his hand. She smiles down at him, though she’s sure he can tell how nervous and aroused his little scenario has made her. “Whenever you want to try that let me know.”

He raises his eyebrow at her and makes a small sweeping gesture. “Why not now?”

Jane swallows hard around a sudden lump in her throat. “Um, _now_?” Somehow, she hadn’t even considered that he meant _right this second_.

“Of course. I am not a patient man.” he points out with a little sideways quirk of his lips. Then he stands and smirks again, towering over her. “However, perhaps you should arrange your domicile ‘visits’ first. I do not wish to disrupt your plans for tomorrow. Though you may wish to arrange for _late_ meetings.” He winks down at her.

Jane gulps again and takes his suggestion, trying to ignore how her hands and voice are shaking slightly as she makes her calls, planning to meet the landlady of Apartment A at  1:00pm tomorrow and the landlord of Apartment B at  3:00pm. It helps a little when he takes that burning gaze (and knowing smirk) off of her and looks out the trailer window instead.

Jane finally hangs up and takes a deep, slow breath, trying to calm herself. _Here goes nothing_. “OK, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

She turns to Loki, to find him studying her critically. “What?” she asks.

“Are you fond of those garments?” he asks cryptically. Jane looks down at herself. Comfortable, worn jeans, a flannel shirt, and a white tee-shirt. “Um, yes, I suppose?”

“I am not sure your clothing will survive our ‘game’.” he says. “I suggest you do not wear anything that you are not prepared to sacrifice. You may change, I will wait.” He crosses his arms, leering at her.

Jane tries not to think too hard about what he could mean. _‘_ _Sacrifice’?_ She just moves past him to her closet, pawing through it until she finds an old pair of sweatpants, and a flannel shirt that’s seen better days. Although she winces a bit at what he will think, she next finds a bra whose elastic has also seen better days – it might not even survive being _worn_ – and a pair of panties with a small tear near the waistband, though the thought of wearing such battered clothing in front of her lover makes her wince a bit. But that’s what he asked her to do, right? 

Clothes collected, she pauses, not sure where to dress, and Loki’s grin turns absolutely feral. “Please, never mind _me_.” He says archly. Jane swallows hard and turns her back to him, changing clothes as quickly as she can. It’s not that she’s feeling immodest; he’s seen her naked often enough, and he’s going to be seeing her naked again all too soon. But the intensity of his gaze is making her very uncomfortable.

When she finishes and turns back to look at him, the wicked expression on his face doesn’t really make her feel all that better. “Shall we?” he asks.

Jane nods, not trusting her voice not to squeak from nerves. He takes her hand, and without any warning her vision washes out into blinding white and green flashes of light.

There’s a mild jolt as her feet hit uneven ground, and when Jane’s eyes work properly again, she finds them in a forested area at night. Trees and dense foliage ring them in, and when she looks up through a break in the canopy of branches above, she doesn’t recognize any of the constellations above her. And there’s not one, but _two_ moons.

“Is this some kind of dream?” she asks him, letting go of his hand a little reluctantly. It’s unsettling somehow, though that’s probably exactly what he wants.

“No, it is real,” he answers, pacing a few steps away from her, turning his back on her.

“Are we in _Asgard_?” It seems the only logical explanation, but would Loki really risk coming here for real? Even if Thor had let him go free on Earth, it had sounded to Jane as if Odin might not have agreed to that.

But Loki doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he turns and smiles at her in a way that she can only describe as predatory. His teeth somehow look very sharp in the dappled moonlight, and the almost fully-healed bite-mark on her neck gives a mild throb.

“Fragile little Jane Foster,” he purrs mockingly, and the tone of his voice makes a slow shiver go down her spine. He takes a leisurely step towards her, the air around him shimmering, and before Jane’s amazed eyes his helmet phases gradually into being. The horns appear inch by inch, and then his green cape and the golden plates of armour he was wearing the other day when he visited her in the lab. 

He’s apparently pulling out all the stops. 

Jane clenches her fists and takes few quick steps back, trying to maintain the distance between them. Pretending to be intimidated is not all that difficult. “What do you want from me, Loki?” She hisses angrily. She’s supposed to be a ‘defiant slave’, right?

He laughs wickedly, and while it reminds her all too clearly of how she first ‘met’ him, this time it actually sends a strange kind of thrill through her veins.

“I’m going to make a toy of you, little one. I so enjoy using mortals as playthings,” he sneers, sliding closer to Jane as she continues to back up.

“Look at the big powerful god, threatening to rape a defenseless woman,” Jane snarls at him. Another echo of earlier and rather less comfortable days (if the situation right this moment _could_ be called comfortable), but Loki doesn’t give the same reply as he did the first time she said something similar to him.

“Why not?” he laughs low and deep. “It’s one of the many privileges of power.” He slides ever closer. “You belong to me, you are my _slave_ , and I will use you as my desires dictate.”

His words seem to ignite something in her, a mix of anxiety and lust like nothing she’s ever experienced before, and Jane continues to back up, playing the game, looking for a way to evade him. She glances over her shoulder and realizes that there seems to be an overgrown trail stretching away through the trees, right behind her.

“There’s no escape,” he growls, noticing her look. “Still, I do enjoy a good _hunt._ I am feeling slightly charitable this evening, so I shall make you a bargain, slave. In that direction-“ he indicates the trail- “some distance from here, there is a mountain. Sheer cliffs rising up from the forest floor. If you get to the rock face before I catch you, I will set you free. But if I get to you first…” He trails off with another low, depraved laugh.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Jane challenges him. 

More evil laughter, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the moons. “You do not, but I am afraid you only have two choices. Kneel now and beg me to use you gently – I may consider it, or I may _not_ \- or run and take your chances. I shall give you a two-minute head start.”

When Jane hesitates for a long moment, his grin widens cruelly. “Your time has already begun, little girl. Five seconds already gone, by my count-“

Jane turns and runs, crashing through the branches, and his laughter rings coldly in her ears.

She scrambles, trying not to trip over roots and loose twigs, and it doesn’t take long at all for her legs to ache, for her lungs to burn. Panting for breath, she remembers what happened during Loki and Thor’s battle, and so she tries to slow down just enough to keep moving quickly, but without exhausting herself.

If she can get to the rock face, maybe he’ll let her escape her ‘punishment’ at the very least. She rather doubts it, but either way, this is the game she agreed to.

After what seems like an eternity, she finally has to come to a stop in a clearing to catch her breath. Alien formations of stars arch above her, reminding her that Loki is master of this domain. And master over her, by extension. 

It doesn’t matter; she’s still going to try to give him a run for his money, no pun intended.

Out of the blue there’s a familiar chuckle, seeming to come from right next to her ear, and Jane bolts forward, continuing along the overgrown path and again trying not to stumble over her own feet. She feels a hand grab at her shoulder but she manages to slip away, an angry snarl following after her, and her heart lurches. He certainly _is_ a convincing actor.

Her heart is pounding so loud Jane thinks he could probably track her just by the noise of its beat alone. Sweat drips into her eyes, stinging and blurring, and branches slap against her, as if the forest itself is trying to entrap her, hold her hostage for her pursuer. Jane shoves through the branches, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from looking over her shoulder.

It’s like having a ravenous monster on her trail. _Well, he’s definitely ravenous,_ Jane reflects, _and I’m sure most people would agree with the_ monster _part, unfortunately._ Despite the craziness of this whole scenario though, she has to admit to herself that she feels more excited than afraid. Even if she knows that Loki is going to win this chase, whether she makes it to the rock face or not. The prey isn’t going to escape so determined a predator.

Just as she thinks this, the trail opens up ahead of her, and she can see her destination. Putting on a last burst of speed – almost thwarted as she stumbles over a tree root yet _again_ – she breaks from the tree-line and puts a hand on the rough wall of rock.

“Very good,” Loki growls. Jane’s head jerks up, and she sees that he’s standing only a few paces away from her, leaning casually against the cliff-face. She’s panting hard, her legs trembling and her heart racing in her chest, but he’s calm and unruffled. _He_ certainly hadn’t run.

“You…fucking… _cheater_ ,” she gasps, glaring at him and trying to slow her breathing. 

If he grins any wider, his jaw is going to fall off. “God of Mischief and Lies, my pet. Cheating is a requirement, do you not agree?” Jane doesn’t miss the slight emphasis he puts on the word ‘pet’.

“Yeah, well, I still made it here, and you didn’t catch me. So I’m leaving now, as we agreed.”

He throws his head back and gives his most maniacal laugh yet, and Jane can’t help shivering at the sound. _He’s_ definitely _too good an actor_.

“I am afraid that I _lied_ , my slave. But in truth, you expected as much, did you not? Still, I thank you for the amusement, however brief.” He sidles towards her, still grinning cruelly.

“You bastard!” she spits at him, pushing off the wall and clenching her fists tightly. He said he wants her to resist, but what exactly is she supposed to do? 

“I will use you until you _break_ ,” he rasps, shifting nearer. He stops just out of reach, though, stroking his chin and looking thoughtful. 

“On the other hand, given how well you amused me, perhaps I should offer you a chance to change my mind.” His voice hardens, roughens. “Kneel and beg for my clemency.”

But Jane isn’t going to fall for that a second time. “Go to Hell. You’re just lying again.”

“Well, so I am!” he says brightly. “Such a clever little mortal.” He reaches out almost lazily towards her. Randomly, Jane thinks that his horns seem a lot less funny when he’s grinning savagely at her like that, as if he plans to _devour_ her.

Jane’s still not sure exactly what to _do_. She knows all too well how strong and fast he is, and even if she tries to go on the offensive, punching him seems like a really bad idea – a good way to hurt her hand on his armour – and for what? He’s going to win, they’ve already established that. There’s only going to be one ending to this scene. The only question is how they get there.

So instead of trying to fight, she turns and tries to run away. 

But before she can even get two steps away, it’s as if a veil of darkness is dragged across her vision for a split second, and when it disappears, he’s standing right in front of her. Operating on sheer instinct, Jane doesn’t stop, just lowers her shoulder and barrels right into him, and she’s not at all surprised when she hits nothing. One of his duplicates, she expected as much. 

But she barely gets in another step before powerful hands grab her from behind, closing tightly around her upper arms like shackles, jerking her to a bone-jarring stop. “Very good, indeed,” says a low husky voice right into her ear, and she can feel the cold metal of his helmet pressing against the side of her head. “I do believe there is a touch of the warrior in you, little mortal.”

He drags her backwards, and Jane tries to twist free of his grip, but it does no good. She stamps down on his foot as hard as she can, but he only chuckles. Her next attempt is to try to fall to her knees and at least slow him down, but he picks her up effortlessly, one arm around her waist and the other pinning her arms against her sides, and pulls her back into the forest.

They’re in a clearing – she doesn’t know if it’s the one she stopped in before, a new one, or maybe it’s even one he just created, assuming this forest is all his construction – but either way, he suddenly releases her. 

She knows the struggle will end the moment _he_ decides it will, but until then, she’s going to give it her all.

So instead of running again, this time she turns and advances on him, ignoring the expression of mocking delight on his face as she raises her pitifully tiny fists. She takes a clumsy swing at him, hitting nothing as he languidly dodges, staying just out of her reach. “Perhaps more than a touch of the warrior,” he says with false admiration.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, baring her teeth and punching at him again, though of course he slides just out of reach once more.

He makes a confused face at her, though his fierce amusement is very obvious just underneath. “Oh, but you _will_ , my pet. Though perhaps more accurately, I am going to fuck _you_ ,” he points out crudely, leering at her. “Hard and rough, until you are screaming my name.” He steps towards her, baring his teeth in a shark-like grin.

Heat prickles below Jane’s belly, but she plays the game, kicking at him as he gets too close, and still he grins as he grabs her elbow, unbalancing her and yanking her forward against him. 

She tries to twist away, shoving her hip into his leather-clad belly as hard as she can, stamping again on his foot, but it has absolutely no effect. She winds up with her back pressed tight to his chest, his arms trapping hers against her own body, and no matter how she squirms, she can’t get free. She struggles harder, using all her strength, but his arms are like stone bands, and she’s pretty sure he’s not using even half his strength. Maybe not even a quarter. In any other context, it might actually be kind of funny, just how outmatched she is.

His arms tighten a little further, squeezing her, and although he’s not hurting her, for a moment it almost seems too real. She throws her head backwards on sheer instinct, finally eliciting a grunt from him as the top of her head connects with his chin, his teeth clacking loudly together. 

Immediately she feels guilty, but he only snarls: “An excellent if fruitless attempt, little slave,” and pushes her down into the cool tall grass.

She tries to crawl away but his hand closes on her ankle and yanks her towards him, and then he’s on top of her, forcing her onto her back. The fierce, exhilarated grin never leaves his face as he grabs the collar of her sweat-top and pulls sharply, the fabric parting as easily as if he were simply opening double doors.

“Leave me alone!” Jane hollers, shoving at his chest with all her pitiful strength, but of course he doesn’t move an inch, and he never stops grinning. Steel fingers grab her wrists and press them up over her head, his legs tangle around hers, and he’s leaning down, his breath falling hotly on her face.

“Such spirit,” he comments in that faux-admiring way. “Did I not once say I would enjoy breaking it? I think that time might be at hand.” Jane yells at his words and he releases her hands, but it’s only so he can tug hard on the ruins of her shirt, yanking it up and off her arms. He tosses it away like trash, then pins her wrists down again with one hand, eyeing her heaving chest.

Jane bites off a moan as his fingertips trace along one strap of her bra, slow and lazy. Like he has all the time in the world (and he does, doesn’t he?). When he closes his hand around her still-clothed breast, pressing his fingers into lace and skin, Jane curses him, even though what she really wants him to do is to _touch_ her.  

Loki leans over her, horns looming over her face as his teeth drag none-too-gently down her throat, and Jane yelps as he tweaks her nipple hard through her bra. 

He laughs huskily and shifts lower, and Jane tries to pull her wrists free but she can’t do it, it’s like trying to move a brick wall, and she can’t even arch her back as he nips her sharply through the worn lace.

The torment pauses as his hand fumbles between her breasts, obviously searching for some kind of fastening, and Jane takes the opportunity to laugh at him for a change.  

“The great and terrible God of Mischief, foiled by a simple bra? You’re _pathetic_.”

He snarls and gets right back in her face, his teeth sharp on the edge of her jaw though he doesn’t bite hard. Then he laughs and Jane feels him reach down between their bodies. She’s not sure what he’s doing, and it’s hard to suppress the thrill of fear when he retrieves what he’s looking for and holds it up in front of her face.

One of his daggers.

“Not foiled at all, impudent slave. You won’t be needing _this_ anymore,” he purrs, and Jane squeezes her eyes shut as he slides the thin blade between her breasts and under the strap, slicing it open with a sharp tug. Two more cuts dealt to the straps to each side of her collarbone, and he’s pulling the bra free and tossing it away. He tosses the dagger after it, much to Jane’s surprise.

His teeth worry at her bared nipples, first one and then the other, and Jane doesn’t bother to swallow her groan this time. “In fact,” he growls, you won’t be needing any of your garments any longer.” Ruthlessly he pulls her up onto her feet, then drags her by the wrists towards a tree stump in the middle of the clearing.

She can’t hope to stop him or even to slow him down, but she still tries anyways, even though he brushes her efforts off easily. He even has no trouble controlling her with only one hand, as he uses the other to sweep his cape out of the way before he sits down on the stump, pulling her inexorably down and across his lap.

Jane can guess what’s coming, and she squirms and tries to kick, useless as that is, shouting and cursing him. Another wickedly mocking chuckle, and he pulls her arms tightly behind her back. A hissing sound fills Jane’s ears, and there’s the familiar sensation of a thin snake winding itself firmly around her wrists over and over before it goes still and turns into rope, his arm holding her down like a leaden weight. She continues to struggle and curse, though.

“Silence!” he rasps after a moment, his hand covering her mouth. “You can’t hope to stop me, little mortal. But that doesn’t mean you can’t annoy me into being even _more_ unkind to you than I had already planned. Understand me?”

Jane draws in a shaky breath as best she can against his hot palm, and nods slowly. She bites her lip hard but has to fight to keep from squirming, as he pulls another dagger from somewhere and starts slicing the rest of her clothes to ribbons. The waistband of her sweatpants gives with barely any resistance, and her panties breathe their last with even less. Soon she’s down to her shoes and socks, the leather underneath her smooth and cool against her bare belly and thighs. When a breeze flits through the clearing and brushes across her skin, she’s painfully aware of just how _wet_ she is, and how hard her nipples have become. He probably is, too.

“So very lovely,” he comments, tossing the dagger away and snaking a hand into her hair, using a firm grip to hold her in place like a specimen pinned to a board. “I should keep you naked every moment of every day and night,” he muses, “So you are always ready to submit to your god.” Jane squeezes her eyes tightly shut again as his fingers feather along the curve of her trembling ass.

He keeps it up for awhile, teasing her with the lightest of touches, letting his hand trail along her quivering thighs. Several times he changes tactics, scratching her sensitive skin lightly with his blunt fingernails, and gooseflesh breaks out all over her body, before returning to the slow, delicious torture of his caresses.

He alters his grip on her hair at one point, forcing her head to turn to the side, towards him, and though he isn’t hurting her – _yet_ – she’s all too aware that he can see her face now. There’s nowhere she can hide from him, though considering what he’s about to do to her, maybe that’s a good thing. If he starts to _hurt_ her, he’ll see that and adjust. 

Won’t he?

She soon finds herself almost on the verge of relaxing, if only because being on edge for so long eventually would exhaust anyone, and that’s when he chooses to strike the first time.

It wrenches a gasp from her throat and all her muscles clench in response, the jolt of contact fading quickly to a sharp sting that makes her writhe. When he accords the other side of her ass the same treatment, she raises her head as much as she can and glares up at him. “You son of a bitch!”

He gives another throw-his-head-back-and-cackle-evilly response. “Spirit,” is all he says, before continuing.

Jane isn’t counting, but it seems to take awhile, the blows coming at predictable intervals and following a pattern that she can easily work out. Right cheek, left cheek, back of right thigh, back of left thigh, repeat, and she can’t help tensing in anticipation of each impact, her gasps soon turning to moans and grunts, the sting turning into several kinds of heat, some of them not unpleasant.

It helps when the hand in her hair releases, and he puts it to work teasing her breasts, tugging gently on the nipples between blows, pinching firmly while landing strikes. 

The balance of pleasure and pain leaves her mind in fragments, unable to focus on anything beyond the signals her body is sending her. The sounds forced out of her and of the impact of skin on skin ring in her ears. Time bends, folds, and stretches, and she isn’t sure how long her ‘punishment’ goes on for.

But it does eventually stop, and he slides his hand down across her sore flesh and right between her shaking thighs. The contact wrenches another gasp out of her, his fingertips arrowing in on her clit ruthlessly, circling the slick flesh with firm pressure.

“You’re so very _wet_ ,” he purrs. “I knew you would enjoy that.” His laugh is low and husky and Jane feels herself blush scarlet, but he doesn’t wait for her to reply – and what exactly would she _say_ anyway? -  he just pushes what feels like a _lot_ of fingers deep into her, and she groans, her hips bucking back against his hand.

He cackles and it sounds like pure evil as he twists his hand slowly inside her, and Jane turns her head away from him, trying to silence her groans, fighting to withhold something from him, even if it’s just the sounds of her pleasure. 

The battle is lost immediately, though. He starts to spank her again, though not nearly as hard as before. He doesn’t need to spank hard, she’s so sensitive now, he barely has to do anything. But he’s also moving the fingers inside her in rough quick strokes, _filling_ her every time his palm makes stinging contact with her burning skin. When he pulls slick fingers out and attacks her clit again, all the while continuing to spank, it’s too much, her control is gone, and Jane screams and comes so hard she can see coloured lights swirling across the backs of her eyelids.

Jane blinks and tries to shake sweaty strands of hair out of her face, tries to get her body to _work_ , tries to prepare herself for more resistance. If she knows Loki, this was only the beginning of what he has planned for her.

“Still not screaming my name?” he mocks above her. “It matters not. I _own_ you. I am your god, and you will worship me as such, helpless little slave.” He pushes her off his lap without warning, though he catches her elbow in a flash and supports her as she weaves alarmingly on legs that feel about as steady as Jell-O.

He only releases her once she can stand on her own (if with difficulty). Jane is almost afraid to look over at him, but when she finally works up the nerve, he’s not even looking at her. Instead he’s unfastening his cape somehow from the shoulders of his armour plating, and as she watches, he folds it neatly several times, until he has formed it into a small rectangle. He drops it on the ground between his feet, unlaces his pants and pulls himself free, then fixes her with a narrowed, dangerous gaze.

“Kneel before me!” he commands. When Jane hesitates, his expression darkens further. “Do you need another, _harsher_ lesson? I am more than prepared to give it. Otherwise, you will obey me. NOW!”

Shakily, Jane walks forward until she is standing between his legs. It’s surprisingly hard to drop to her knees with her hands bound behind her back, but he takes her elbow and helps her, guiding her down until her knees are resting on his folded cape. It’s almost incongruous, him so concerned about protecting her knees while maintaining the game, but it also reminds her that it’s all _just_ illusion. He wraps a hand tightly in her hair again and pulls her forward until her lips press against the head of his cock, and Jane closes her eyes and tries to relax. She’s helpless, and there’s nothing she can do except give up control to him. She focuses instead on the taste of him, the scent of him, all salt and musk and leather.

Loki directs her every movement, making her do exactly what he wants. At first it’s to trace her tongue up and down his length, then to press kisses against his balls. Finally he orders her to open her mouth and slides himself inside, then holds her head still by the hair, while he moves himself slowly in and out, caressing his length along her tongue. 

His grip on her hair isn’t painful, but Jane is now more than a little worried that he’ll force himself too deep into her mouth, until she gags, and that does _not_ appeal to her at all. But there’s no way to tell that to him, not in her current position, and she doubts looking up at him pleadingly will do much, since that’s probably expected of her in this particular scene. 

But even when he starts to gasp, his fingers tightening fractionally in her hair, he never pushes himself in too deeply for her comfort. He’s not just controlling her, Jane realizes. He is exercising an equally iron grip on himself, maybe even _more_ than over her. 

Her tension easing, Jane opens her eyes and looks up at him, watching his face as he gets closer and closer to the edge. She presses her tongue up harder against the underside of his shaft, feeling him stiffen even more against the edges of her teeth. The little bit of his face that she can see, that’s not covered by his horned monstrosity of a helmet, is sheened with sweat and flushed red, his breathing speeding up and rasping dryly in his long throat.

He snarls something she doesn’t understand and stops dead, his eyes locked to hers as he spills himself across her tongue in hot pulses. He slowly releases his grip on her hair and smirks down at her, radiating pure smugness. It’s entirely appropriate to his role, though Jane has to fight not to smirk right back at him.

“Very good, my pet,” he praises her, chuckling. Jane collapses back onto her heels, watching as Loki tucks himself in and laces up again. She wonders what else he has up his sleeve, if anything. 

“You got what you wanted, so just let me go,” Jane hisses at him. 

He laughs loudly, the sound seeming to slice through the clearing like a sword-thrust. “Let you _go_? That was merely the appetizer, slave. But I will allow you to rest for the next act. In a manner of speaking.” He leans forward, takes her arm and pulls her back onto her feet, then picks up his cape. Rising to his full height, he eyes her naked body while shaking the cape out, then he moves a little away and spreads it out on the grass with meticulous care.

He kneels on the cape, then beckons her over, scowling when Jane stands her ground. “Move, _wench_!” He snarls, raising a hand warningly, and Jane scrambles to obey, not missing how the corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. She’s had enough ‘punishment’ for one day.

He pulls her down to sit in front of him, facing him, and Jane winces slightly as her tender ass makes contact with the hard lumpy ground underneath his cape. But she doesn’t have much time to focus on that; he’s pulling off her socks and shoes, and then he pushes her down onto her back. She can’t figure out what he’s doing, and a yelp of surprise escapes her when powerful hands grasp her hips and seem to pull her lower body straight up into the air.

By the time he’s finished positioning her, she’s practically hanging upside-down. She feels folded in half, her legs dangling helplessly down over the arm he has looped firmly around her hips, her shoulders and the back of her head resting in his lap. Cool leather and cooler, hard metal press against her bound hands and her back, and the blood is rushing to her head, dizzying her. Still, she can’t help but notice that her most sensitive areas are now mere centimeters below his chin. 

“Wh-what are you _doing_?” Jane stammers. 

He chuckles. “Whatever I desire, of course. Don’t worry, little girl, you’ll like it.”

He lowers his head and begins, Jane biting off a squeal as sharp teeth nibble delicately at the outer folds of her sex. She digs her nails into the leather of his tunic, twisting her head from side-to-side as he wraps one arm tightly around her hips and uses his free hand to part the folds of her sex, baring the throbbing little node for him to toy with. His tongue lashes against the spot, over and over, and Jane groans deeply, squeezing her eyes shut, sweat rolling down her sides.

When she opens her eyes next, of course he’s watching her, green eyes burning down at her, and Jane can’t help looking at his horns, the curves of them glinting in the light of the two moons. A stray thought comes to her then, that it’s all too easy to imagine that she’s trapped in Hell, being ravished by an evil, lustful god….actually, except for the Hell part, Jane supposes that’s exactly what some would say _was_ happening to her right now.

Holding her gaze, Loki raises his glistening mouth from her core. “Such a beautiful quim,” he purrs, winking obscenely at her. 

_ Did he just say ‘quim’?  _ Jane asks herself. It makes her want to giggle for some reason – it’s such a ridiculous word, isn’t it? – but that and all other logical thought ceases when Loki pushes two fingers deep inside her, then pulls them out and applies the slickened digits to her swollen clit. She does squeal this time, despite her best efforts, and digs her nails into his armour again, feeling light-headed. “And so _responsive_ ,” Loki further observes, laughing low and threateningly again.

His tongue delves deeply inside her, fingertips teasing her clit in a maddening rhythm, and Jane can feel all her muscles starting to clench tightly, her body tensing like a bowstring. So close, she’s nearly there, he’s probably going to _stop_ , if she knows her God of Mischief at all-

What he does next shocks her, even though it doesn’t register as painful at all. Jane’s not even sure how to describe it to herself. He’s tapping (spanking?) her clit firmly, over and over, and each tiny impact sends a shockwave through her, pushing her closer to the edge. 

“Yesss,” he hisses, “Come for your god,” Loki urges her, and everything seems to merge into one intense wave, swallowing her whole, and she comes harder even than before, screaming and twisting helplessly, the blood pulsing so strongly in her head that her ears are deafened by the internal sound.

“My God,” she gasps when he lets her back down onto the cape, Jane remembering too late that he’ll probably jump on _that_ comment, but he only grins, all too pleased with himself. 

_ Jesus Christ, I can barely move _ , she realizes. _That’s one drawback to sleeping with a god – he has so much more stamina than I do._ He must realize how spent she is, too, as her hands are suddenly free, her bonds disintegrating as Loki makes a sharp cutting motion in the air with one hand. 

“Liked that, did you?” he chuckles darkly, and rolls her unresisting body over onto her stomach. “Get on your knees, slave. No, face away from me,” he corrects her as she moves to obey him. If he still wants to play the defiance game with her, he’s out of luck. _Two orgasms are apparently all he needs to ‘break’ me_ , Jane thinks, trying not to smirk herself. _Yeah, he’ll probably comment on_ that, _knowing him._

But he’s apparently busy with other things. As she waits on hands and knees, trying not to shiver as a cool breeze strokes across her damp skin, there’s a soft rustling behind her. A few moments later, a torn condom wrapper is tossed onto the ground next to her left hand. Well, Jane supposes it’s an effective way of letting her know that he’s using one, without him having to tell her and thus break role. 

His hands skim over her backside, Jane flinching at how sensitive she still is, and then he grasps her hips and pulls her backward, lining her up and holding her immobile for his entry. 

His very first thrust is slow and gentle, though Jane still gasps as he fills her, her whole body sensitized after everything they’ve done together. But after that he gives her no quarter, every thrust verging on brutal. He invades her over and over, each time almost pulling all the way out, and then slamming back into her ruthlessly, ramming the air out of her lungs. The creases and edges of his armour are forced hard against the sore flesh of her backside, it feels like each line is etching itself into her sore skin, but it hurts in the best possible way.

They’ve passed beyond fucking. This is two animals in rut. And Jane’s loving every bone-jarring minute, logical brain be damned.

The harsh sounds of their breathing fill the clearing, the sound of flesh slapping into flesh, and Jane lets her elbows collapse, pressing her burning face into the surprisingly soft grass, not bothering to muffle the moans and groans that escape her every time he invades her again. 

He stops suddenly, and Jane feels him run a gentle hand up her sweat-slickened spine. Then he’s pulling out of her slowly, and Jane, puzzled, raises her head and looks back over her shoulder at him. What the heck is Loki doing _now_?

He rolls her over onto her back, looking her slowly up and down, and to Jane’s confusion he pulls off the helmet, discarding it into the grass next to them. Though his hair is practically drenched with sweat, so maybe she shouldn’t be too surprised he’s ditching it. 

The air around him twists in golden ripples, the gold plates fading away to nothing, leaving him in his usual surcoat and tunic. These he starts to strip off, along with everything else except the condom, his rapid breathing matching hers. There’s an expression in his eyes which Jane isn’t sure she can identify, especially in the context of this scene, but at a guess, she would say it’s almost…. _tender_?

Once he’s gloriously naked (yes, he’s completely healed now, his ribs are totally unbruised as far as Jane can tell), he gets back down on his knees and loops one strong hand behind Jane’s neck, the other around her waist, and hoists her back into his lap. He eases himself inside her again, and everything is different this time, gentle and slow and tender, where everything was rough and sharp and demanding mere moments ago.

His eyes never leave her face, their hands clasping, his fingers twining with hers in a way that sends a pang straight through her heart. He kisses her – the first time he’s done so this entire night, Jane realizes – and it mirrors what their lower bodies are doing, gentle and unhurried. Even after breaking the kiss, his face stays close to hers, their breaths mingling, strands of his damp hair tickling her face.

He speeds up so gradually that Jane is taken aback to find herself on the verge of yet another orgasm, something Loki guarantees when he extricates one hand from hers and reaches between them to press firm circles around her clit. Though she doesn’t scream this time when she reaches climax, she does gasp out his name, and she can feel him smiling against her throat. 

He comes at last, his hand tightening around hers almost to the point of pain, growling low through his teeth as he releases himself deep inside her. They slump bonelessly together, and Loki slowly rolls backwards, taking Jane with him. They end up sprawled on his dampened cape, Jane lying on his chest and wrapped in his arms.

They lie there for a long while, their breathing gradually quieting, the wind cooling their sweat-drenched bodies. At first Jane enjoys the breeze, but after awhile she starts to shiver, though it isn’t for long because of course Loki notices. He shifts himself around until he can pull his cape out from under them, then he shakes it out and spreads it over them like a blanket, his trapped body heat soon easing her shudders.

Jane closes her eyes and relaxes fully against him, part of her wishing this moment will never end. As if somehow they can stop time, and she’ll no longer have to worry about SHIELD finding out about them, or Erik or Darcy, or about Thor changing his mind about leaving Loki here with her.

Or about whether or not Loki will ever really let her _in_ , beyond these sexual olympics. 

As if somehow sensing the train of her thoughts, Loki asks softly: “Did I please you?” Jane wonders if she’s imagining hesitation in his question.

“What?! Um, _hello_ , you just gave me three orgasms here,” she teases, and then stops and thinks. “Yikes, once again I owe you.”

He chuckles. “Did I not say before that it is not a competition? In fact,” – and Jane can easily imagine the sinful smirk on his face, even though her head is tucked into the curve of his neck and she can’t see his expression-  “I was thinking the other day that I should possibly attempt to see just how many times I can bring you to climax in one session-“

Jane groans loudly and semi-seriously, interrupting him. “Christ, I’m sorry I brought it up. I feel almost comatose right _now_ , and you want to push further?” She pokes him in the ribs playfully. “I think you really do want to _break_ me.”

“I did not mean right this moment,” he points out, but she can tell he’s still smirking. “It is only a consideration for the future.” 

“Is that a threat?” she can’t help ribbing him.

“A promise,” he counters archly. Oh yes, Jane would bet a year’s worth of data that he’s doing the smirking thing. _Perv,_ she thinks affectionately.

Then she decides to say it out loud. “Perv,” she accuses him.

His arms squeeze her slightly, then relax. “As are you, my dear Jane. But we shall keep that between ourselves, yes?”

She snickers and silence falls again, only the leaves around them whispering in secretive rustles to each other.

After awhile Jane stretches languorously, her eyes starting to feel heavy. She’s never felt more sated, and he’s very warm against her, and it’s getting harder and harder to stay awake.

Out of the blue he says something, startling her back to full consciousness. “Huh?” she asks thickly. 

He clears his throat, but then pauses for a long moment, as if he is second-guessing whatever he just said to her. “I said, thank you.”

Jane blinks. “For what? You did most of the work. In fact, shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?” 

But he continues as if she hadn’t interrupted. “For the gift you have given me.”

Jane blinks some more and leans up so she can see his face. “What gift? I’m not following you.” 

“The gift of your body. Of your trust,” he says, looking back at her with an intensity that almost forces Jane to drop her eyes. 

“Oh,” Jane says, not sure what answer is appropriate here. “Um, you’re welcome?” It’s awkward, this whole _exchange_ is awkward, but it’s kind of sweet, too. It seems tonight is full of firsts for her. 

“And thank _you_ ,” Jane adds, leaning up further and kissing him thoroughly. She lays down again, tucking her head under his chin once more. There’s more she should probably be saying, like going into specifics about what exactly she is thankful for, but she’s not sure how to put her thoughts into words. And there’s always the problem that she still doesn’t know where that line in the sand is. He’s apparently happy to continue their current arrangement, but if she crosses the line, if she dares to use words like _love_ , will that cause things to grind to a halt? 

And really, can she apply _love_ to what they have? In so many ways, she barely knows him. Can she really _love_ someone who has so many walls between himself and her, emotionally if not physically?

_ I don’t want to think about that, _ she decides. Cuddling with Loki is still pretty rare and precious, and damn it, she wants to enjoy every second.

So she does.

*~*~*

Jane wakes up alone in her trailer and quickly realizes that it’s almost  noon. She dresses swiftly, trying not to dwell on how tender her backside feels, nor the slight soreness between her legs. It’s not that either sensation is unpleasant, but she has personal business to attend to this afternoon, and she doesn’t want to be distracted.

She remembers falling asleep in Loki’s arms, cradled to his chest, but that’s where her memory ends. He must’ve teleported her back here while she slept, and then left. 

Again. 

_ It’s still progress, _ she reminds herself firmly, bustling around the trailer preparing a quick lunch. She’ll have to eat fast, if she wants to leave lots of time to prepare for meeting with the first landlord, for the apartment in the centre of town.

Just as she sets her plate down on the table, the phone rings, surprising her. It’s Sunday, after all, and although research isn’t exactly a 9-to-5, five-day-a-week job, she and Darcy agreed a long time ago that Sunday was their day of rest. Sacrosanct. Erik knows that, too. And who else would be calling her, other than Erik or Darcy?

_ Unless it’s the God of Mischief and Phone-Sex, _ she reminds herself. But she picks up the phone anyway. If it’s Loki, she can always ask him to wait until after her apartment-hunting is done-

“Doctor Foster,” says a male voice, and although it’s a little familiar to her, Jane can’t place it. It certainly isn’t Loki or Erik, that’s for sure.

“Yes?” she asks.

“It’s Nick Fury,” he says.

Jane’s heart leaps into her throat – does he _know_? – but he continues: “If you have a moment, there’s something important I’d like to consult with you about…”

*~*~*

Jane is standing in front of ‘Apartment A’ and she pauses to glance down at her notepad, with its list of questions and reminders. _Ask about noise levels, ask about any bug issues, check the water pressure in the shower_ …she thinks she’s remembered everything. She starts to reach for the doorbell.

“Am I too late to join you?” asks a familiar voice from behind her, and Jane smiles and turns around.

Then she blinks, astonished, because Loki is not wearing his usual armour. Or in fact, any armour at all. Instead, he’s wearing a black suit jacket and tie, a white button-down shirt, black dress pants and shoes, and a long black coat. 

She looks him slowly up and down. It’s strange how odd he looks to her in normal human clothes, after seeing him so often in his elaborate sets of armour. Of course, had he shown up in the gold plate and horns, that would have been utterly _insane_ – how the people on the street would have stared, assuming Loki had let them see him – and yet, at some level Jane supposes that’s exactly what she would have predicted him to do, mischief-lover that he is.

“You clean up nice,” she says, smiling up at him. He smiles back, but looks puzzled.

_ Oh. _ “It’s a hu- _Midgardian_ expression. It means you look really handsome when you get all dressed-up.” Though as soon as she says that, it occurs to her that given how elaborate his armour is, the dress pants and jacket actually seem _less_ dressy, compared to that. 

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You do not approve of my armour?”

Jane shakes her head. “No, I like it just fine, it’s a _good_ look. Just maybe not for apartment-hunting.” The word _hunting_ reminds her of last night’s activities, though, and Jane feels a blush creeping over her face. From the sudden smirk on Loki’s face, he’s obviously thinking about that, too.

Before he can find a way to push more of her buttons – because she just knows he _would_ – she turns and rings the doorbell. An older woman opens it a moment later, and smiles at both of them. “Hello again, Miss Foster.”

“Mrs. Lassiter, thanks for letting me take another look at the place,” Jane says, shaking hands with her. “This is my friend-“ Too late, Jane wonders how exactly she is supposed to introduce him. ‘Loki of Asgard?’ ‘Norse God of Mischief and Kinky Sex-Games?’ ‘Failed Conqueror of Earth?’

Loki glides up next to Jane and extends his hand. “Loki Lokisson,” he interjects smoothly, and Jane has to wonder if letting him introduce himself as _Loki-anything_ is the best idea. The fact that an alien named Loki had tried to take over  Manhattan _was_ common knowledge. She doesn’t think anyone will connect the name – or Loki’s face – to anything to do with Puente Antiguo, since only his Destroyer had been here before, but the Battle of Manhattan had been _big_ news.

Too late, it also occurs to her that this is a small town. People talk. Jane doesn’t know _everyone_ , certainly, as she is not the most sociable of people. And there are strangers passing through here all the time. But still, the tongues do tend to wag.  So could Erik or Darcy eventually hear about the ‘friend’ named Loki who had helped Jane with her apartment search?

Unfortunately there’s nothing Jane can do about it now. Unless Loki really does have some ability to control minds.

But Mrs. Lassiter doesn’t seem aware of the  Manhattan connection. “An interesting name. You’re not from around here?”

Loki shakes his head and smiles sweetly. “No, you could say such.”

She beckons them both inside. “Just let me get the key, I’ll be right with you.”

Jane wipes her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans as the landlady walks away. Loki, observant as always, leans to Jane’s ear. “What troubles you, Jane?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have told her your name,” Jane says in a low voice. “We don’t know how many people might remember that a guy named Loki tried to take over the world.” Then she remembers something else. “Or who might recognize you from a photo or video.”

He shrugs, so unconcerned that Jane wonders if maybe she is blowing things out of proportion.

Then his lips curve in a slow smirk, which makes Jane nervous all over again. “If anyone cares to ask, you can always say it was a jest. That we were playing games of the ‘evil god’ and ‘helpless maiden’ variety earlier.” His smirk becomes positively wicked, his hand ghosting lightly across her still-sensitive backside. “It even is the truth,” he points out with mock-innocence, grinning as Jane gasps at the liberties he is trying to take with her. 

Jane rolls her eyes and slaps at his hand – he doesn’t dodge away like he did last night, but he does grin and wink at her – and steps away from him, pretending to be more annoyed than she actually is.

She manages to smooth out her expression just as the landlady bustles back towards them, and a quick glance in Loki’s direction reassures her that he is back to pretending to be a gentleman. _Focus,_ she tells herself. She has a lot of work ahead of her – packing up, moving in, unpacking, selling the trailer – and it would really be aggravating if she picked a place, and then decided she’d made the wrong decision. 

She follows Mrs. Lassiter to the apartment, Loki ambling along behind them and studying everything with obvious curiosity. Unexpectedly, she finds herself smiling, despite the potential dangers of Loki being discovered. 

_ He _ does _care._

*~*~*

They finish their assessment of the first place, and then go to visit ‘Apartment B’, the one that’s on the outskirts of town pretty close to the lab. Jane glances nervously through the space between it and the next building, in the direction of the lab, just before they go in to view the second apartment. Then she remembers that it’s Sunday and neither Darcy nor Erik – though of course it’s Erik she’s mostly worried about, since he’d know Loki on sight – should be at the lab today. 

Although she’s always loved all the windows in the lab, with all the sunlight and stars that she can see through them, ever since meeting Loki all those windows seem to be more of a liability than anything else.

But she had been able to tell even from here that the lab was empty, so Jane had breathed an inner sigh of relief, and focused again on the task at hand.

Viewing completed, they say goodbye to the landlord and then stand outside in the street. Jane again gazes through the gap between buildings, looking out across the desert. She’s silent for a long moment, still pondering the relative merits of the two places, Loki waiting patiently beside her.

As much as she loves the idea of living away from the lab, she thinks she’s going to go with Apartment B, the place they just finished visiting. It’s cheaper, has the extra room, and it _is_ quieter. Oh, and the landlord said that she’d have access to the roof and could even take over a corner and create a little outdoor space for herself, if she wants.

She says as much to Loki, who nods slowly. “I do not have much experience in such matters,” he points out, “and sadly, my personal chambers in Asgard are larger than even that first domicile we visited.”

Jane smiles a little, shaking her head. “Spoiled, were you?”

He does that haughty expression of his. “I was a _prince_ of Asgard, wench!” Though as soon as he finishes saying it, he looks a little sad to her. _Was_ , indeed.

Feeling bad for him, Jane steps close and stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him. As much to distract him as anything else, she asks: “So I’m guessing your vote is for the first place? It’s bigger.”

He shakes his head, sliding a gentle hand across her cheek and into her hair. “You have no servants to maintain the residence, and living alone as you habitually do, I cannot see that you would need so much space. And you did appear to like the larger wardrobe. Or did I mistake that?”

_ ‘Wardrobe’? He must mean the closet _ . “No, you’re right….I think I’ll sleep on it tonight, but yes, I do think I’m leaning towards this place.” She motions over her shoulder.

“Excellent,” Loki says, cocking his head and smirking as his hands wrap around her hips and pull her lower body flush against his. “Will you spend the rest of this day with me? I promise I will be _exceedingly_ gentle, compared to last night.”

It’s very tempting – surprisingly so, given how sated she’d felt when she woke up, after everything they’d done - and she starts to say yes…and then bites her lip, as she remembers Director Fury’s phone call. He’d asked her to call him later this afternoon once her apartment-hunting was done, and for obvious reasons, it’s probably better if Loki isn’t with her when she does that.

It’s so hard not to share her excitement with Loki, because what Fury had told her had changed _everything_. When she’d found out that Thor had taken the Tesseract and left after the Battle of Manhattan, she’d been convinced that it was the end of her Einstein-Rosen Bridge dream. No power source, no portal to another world. Then, she’d decided to keep working on it anyway, double-checking all her calculations, on the off-chance that somehow a suitable power source would turn up…

And now such a power source just might be within reach. Fury had told her that Tony Stark was considering building ‘the mother of all arc-reactors’ (his words), and Fury wanted Jane to assess the feasibility of such a project being able to fuel her homemade portal.

She doesn’t need to go to Asgard anymore – and in fact, she may not be welcome there anyway considering she’s Loki’s lover, even if Thor had been too gentlemanly to say so – but that hasn’t lessened the allure of visiting other worlds. And of being proven right. Everyone who used to laugh at her and call her crazy, her peers in the scientific community? Seeing them have to eat their words would be _so_ sweet.

She also realizes that Loki would probably be invaluable as a guide to the other worlds in the universe, which is part of the reason why she wants so badly to share this with him. 

However, until she knows for sure why he’s here, and why he attacked the Earth before, she can’t risk it. She’d told Thor that she didn’t see herself as being useful to Loki in any way that could possibly threaten the Earth, but if this arc reactor idea works and she’s back in the game…

Could that even be why he came here in the first place? On the off chance that the one mortal capable of building a portal to other worlds might eventually find the means to make one?

But Jane shoves these unwanted notions away. Even though she’s only known him for a brief time, Loki has given no sign whatsoever that he even cares about Jane’s work, or conquering Earth again _. If he’s so keen to take over, wouldn’t he be encouraging me, at least a_ little, _to keep doing my research? But he hasn’t asked me about it, or even spoken to me about it, not_ once. 

She’s no expert on world domination or tyrants, but Loki would have to be a pretty patient man (god) to just sit back and watch things unfold on their own for who knows how many months, years, maybe even decades.

_ Yes, but he’s immortal. He has all the time in the world, _ a negative, nagging little voice reminds her.

_ Well, I don’t even know if Stark  _ can _build a stable arc-reactor powerful enough. It’s still theoretical,_ Jane argues with herself. Until she _knows_ this will work, it seems pointless to worry about pitfalls that may not even exist.

Besides, Thor is still out there. If Loki puts a foot wrong, Thor is going to come back, right?

But Loki is still waiting for her answer, so Jane shakes her head and looks up at him regretfully. “Sorry, I’m up to my eyeballs in work. I wasn’t expecting to sleep in til  noon. I blame _you_ completely for that, by the way.” Good thing he has no clue about the ‘Sunday is A Day of Rest’ lab rule.

“How you wound me, Jane Foster,” Loki says drolly, clutching dramatically at his heart. “May I at least accompany you to your ale-barrel?” He motions towards the trailer in the distance.

“You may,” Jane responds, grinning and linking her arm through his.

He smiles down at her, and Jane thinks, not for the first time, just how sweetly charming he can be when he lets down his guard. Maybe she’s the only one who’s ever even seen him like this? She wonders.

They walk away at a leisurely pace, too absorbed in each other to notice Erik Selvig is standing in the street several buildings down from them, an expression of panicked realization and horror spreading like slow poison over his face. 


End file.
